A Wedding To Die For

concerned. He says he saw Mrs. Beadford hit your father with the vase, then she checked his pulse after he fell. McNabb claims your mother dragged your father over to the fireplace, lifted his upper body, and let go so he’d hit his head on the bricks.”

“No, please God, no,” whispered Megan. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

“Hang on,” Kate said. “Take a deep breath.”

A tear slipped down Megan’s cheek. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

“Holt is lying,” I said. “Sylvia would never have had the strength to drag James’s body and lift him. The force that it must have taken to kill your father pegs Holt as the killer. But he let Sylvia believe the first blow killed him. He used that lie to control her.”

“This can’t be the Holt I know,” said Travis, shaking his head. “He had an ego, sure, but he was my friend. And a smart guy. Why would he kill Megan’s father?”

“He was flat broke,” said Quinn. “Had a hundred grand in credit card debt. My guess is, he saw an opportunity to have Sylvia in his hip pocket forever and use her to get control of the company. All his money problems would go away.”

“And Graham?” Travis asked, sounding disgusted. “Did Holt kill him, too?”

Quinn said, “Holt admitted he was in the hotel room when Graham fell, but swears up and down it was an accident.” She looked at me. “We may never prove any different, you know.”

“But he had a huge motive to murder Graham,” I said. “Graham invited Laura Montgomery to make an appearance at the wedding. He knew everything about James’s relationship to her and figured that Sylvia would not want Megan to find out. Graham may have even decided Sylvia killed James and was hoping to cash in. But when Holt rather than Sylvia showed up, Graham lost out big time.

“Hold on,” Megan said. “So this Laura Montgomery had the affair with my father?” She faced Travis. “Did you know? Did you and Dad argue about her?”

His earlobes grew red, and if guilt had a name tonight, it was Travis Crane. “I am so sorry, Meg. I should have told you, but... I thought you already knew about her. I imagined all sorts of things when I should have just talked to you.”

“You didn’t trust me,” she said, her eyes on the floor. “But I didn’t trust you, either. I was sure you didn’t argue about money with my dad, even though that’s what you said. But I was too scared to confront you. I didn’t want to think that maybe Dad knew something about you that I didn’t. Some secret. Maybe an ex-wife or—”

“Megan,” Kate cut in. “The lies and the assumptions are over. Let Abby tell you what she found out.”

I looked at Quinn. “Where is she?”

“In the interrogation room.”

“Two-way glass?” I asked.

Quinn nodded.

“You coming with us, Kate?” I asked.

“Nope,” she answered. “You and Megan have taken this journey together. You should finish it the same way.”

So I was the one who took Megan’s cold, mottled hand in mine. Quinn led us to the observation room, let us in, and then left.

Through the smoky glass we saw Laura sitting at a small table, wearing a yellow jail jumpsuit. Her hand- cuffed hands were in front of her and she looked as tired as I felt.

“That’s the woman in the composite,” Megan said. “The woman you said was at the church. She’s Laura Montgomery?”

“Your birth mother made it to your wedding after all,” I said quietly.

“Oh my God,” whispered Megan.

She never took her eyes off her mother while I told her everything I’d learned when I went to Jamaica and after. After I finished, she pressed her nose against the glass and placed splayed palms on either side of her head.

She stared for a long moment, then turned back to me. “Can I talk to her?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see if the chief—”

The door opened and Quinn was there. She must have been listening the whole time. “I’ll take you to her,” she said to Megan.

After Quinn opened the door to the interrogation room, she left Megan with her mother and returned to me. We watched the scene unfold together.

Megan stood by the door and Laura rose slowly. Her cuffed hands hung loose in front of her and her shoulders slumped with the weight of regret and pain.

Megan’s chin quivered and tears fell down her pallid cheeks. Finally, she held out her arms.

They walked toward each other, and when they met, Laura lifted her tethered hands and held her daughter’s face. They stared into each other’s eyes, both of them crying and laughing at the same time. Then Megan put her arms around her mother and held fast.

It was like the best silent movie I’d ever seen.

Epilogue

It took several months for the powers that be to figure out what to do with Sylvia Beadford and Holt McNabb. When the DA finally decided, Jeff and I were in bed—naked, if you want the interesting details. He was asleep, as men tend to do after lovemaking, and I was watching the late news. According to the television reporter, neither McNabb nor Beadford would go to trial. They’d both plea-bargained for twenty to life, which meant they’d get out sooner than later.

Quinn had warned me that’s what would happen. Sylvia and Holt had been pointing the finger at each other since the moment they’d been caught. The he said-she said cases tended to end with less than enough jail time for both criminals. And they were criminals.

“Those two fell through a toilet hole and came out smelling like Chanel N°5,” I said, stabbing the remote to blacken the TV.

“Huh?” Jeff looked up at me through slitted eyes.

“Go back to sleep,” I said.

“Sure. Okay.” He turned on his side.

I switched off the bedside lamp and curled around Jeff’s warm body. I hoped Megan and Travis were cuddled up together, too. They’d bought a little house in Houston and seemed as happy as possums eating persimmons last time I saw them.

Laura Montgomery had fared better than Holt and Sylvia. She’d visited me last week with her brand-new electronic ankle bracelet, provided free of charge by the criminal justice system. She’d done only ninety days in jail, thanks to a compassionate judge who understood that Laura had already done about twenty years of hard time thinking that her child was dead.

She and I had talked for a long time, and she was able to finally answer a few questions that had been bugging me for months.

“When I, uh, visited your house,” I’d said as we shared coffee at my kitchen table, “I noticed you had a hefty bank account that seemed to disappear. If that was the embezzlement money, where did it go?”

“I gave it back to James. Once he found out I was pregnant with his child and that if I was convicted—as I surely would have been—I’d be having the baby in prison, we made a deal. He got me out of the country with a new identity, and when I was safely established, I gave him back his money.”

I rested my chin on my hands. “So that’s how his lawyer found you and got the midwife to steal Megan?”

“Yeah. James forgot to mention that part of his grand plan. That’s what you get for trusting the devil. Twenty years in hell.”

“Okay. Here’s another question,” I said. “How did you end up at the Beadford place the night Holt nearly