The wedding had been planned for two o’clock Saturday afternoon. Fletch had gotten all his copy in by two o’clock, shaved in the men’s room at the newspaper, and had reached his wedding at two-forty.
“Surprised to see you here,” Fletch said to Frank Jaffe, the editor of the
“I’ve been standing in for you at various police stations and courts the last three days,” Frank said. “Thought I might have to stand in for you today at your wedding, too.”
“You almost did.” Two pickup trucks with their tailgates down were parked across the field. In the bed of one truck, delicatessen food was laid out; in the bed of the other, plastic glasses, liquor, and ice. “Are all the various charges against me dropped? Can I get through an airport without being arrested?”
Frank tasted his drink. “Good follow-up on that lawyer’s murder in this morning’s edition. Got the big Sunday wrap-up in for tomorrow?”
“Yes, Frank.”
“How about the big expose of Ben Franklyn for tomorrow?”
“Ben Franklyn will be exposed in Sunday’s newspaper, Frank. Pages and pages of it. With pictures.”
“You’ve been working day and night since Monday.”
“Very nearly.”
“You look half asleep.”
“Frank …”
“Have a nice honeymoon.” Frank smiled. “You need the rest.”
Alston Chambers said, “Fletch, thanks for coming. Being best man at a wedding without a groom was becoming a real strain.”
“If you come across any hot stories on your honeymoon,” Frank said, “be sure and phone them in. We may have found your talent in investigative reporting.”
Alston looked down at Fletch’s jeans and sneakers. “Didn’t have time to change, uh?”
“Alston, I’m here, I shaved, I’m employed, I get to go on a honeymoon.”
“I mean avalanches. Mud slides.” Frank finished his drink. “Major earthquakes. Airplane crashes. Train wrecks.”
Alston said, “I left some clothes for you at the City Desk. Didn’t they tell you?”
“No.”
Frank continued, “Mass murders. Acts of terrorism, like, you know, airport bombings.”
Alston took Fletch by the elbow. “Your bride, having noticed you’re here, would like you to go over and stand next to her in front of the Preacher. That’s integral to the wedding.”
“Be sure and phone in,” Frank said. “If you get any good stuff.”
Fletch said to his mother, “I’m surprised to see you here.”
A long-stemmed flower bobbing from her hat hit Fletch in the eye as Josephine Fletcher leaned forward to kiss her son. “I wouldn’t miss your first wedding for anything.”
“This is the only wedding I have planned,” Fletch said.
She waved airily. “After this, you’re on your own.”
“‘After this’?”
Josie scanned his clothes. “I guess you’re dressed appropriately for a picnic next to the sea.”
She was dressed in watered silk.
“I’ve been working.”
“Barbara’s mother was quite certain you wouldn’t show up at all. She says you never do.”
“Where is she? I’ve never met the lady.”
“So she says. She’s the one over there, in jodhpurs.”
“Of course.”
Josie scanned the bush. “I don’t see where she parked her elephant.”
“Elephant?”
Cindy took Fletch’s other elbow. “The Preacher says, if you don’t get over there, all hell will break loose.”
Fletch turned and shook her hand. “Can’t thank you enough, Cindy, for everything. You’ve helped Barbara get ready for our skiing honeymoon. You’ve helped me keep my job.”
Cindy took the hand of a young woman standing next to her. “I feel this is as much our wedding as yours.”
“It is.” Fletch shook the hand of the other woman. “Have a nice life.”
“Fletch,” Alston said, looking harried, “this person says she has to meet you right now. Her name is Linda.”
“I don’t suppose this is a very good time to tell you this.” Linda pulled his shirt out of his jeans. She cupped the palms of her hands against the skin of his waist. “I’m in love with you.”
“You’ve never seen me before.”
“I see you now. This is it, for me. Wildly, passionately in love.” Her eyes said she was serious.
“Alston, how much are you paying this person?”
Alston sighed.
Fletch said to Linda, “I’m just about to get married.”
“Really?” Sticking her chin out, she slid her hands up his sides.
“That’s why we’re all here,” Fletch said. The wind was beginning to come up. “Standing around in this horrible place.”
Alston said, “I think weddings make some people romantic.”
Linda asked, “When are you returning from your honeymoon?”
“Two weeks. We’re going skiing in Colorado.”
“Don’t break anything,” she said.
“I’ll try not to.”
“Because I’m going to be your next wife.”
“You are?”
“I’ve decided that.” Linda looked like what she was saying was entirely reasonable. “In fact, you might as well skip this wedding with Barbara altogether.”
“Boy,” Alston said. “Getting you married is something I’ll never try again.”
“Was she serious?”
“Call me when you get back,” Linda said. “I work with Barbara.”
“Oh, nice.” Fletch was being guided strongly by the elbow across the field. “Actually, she is beautiful.”
“Barbara?” Alston asked.
Fletch said, “Linda.”
“Oh, boy.”
The wind had come up enough so Fletch had to speak loudly to the woman in jodhpurs. “Hello, Barbara’s mother! How are you?”
The woman looked at him as if accosted. “Who are you?”
Fletch tucked in his shirt. “Don’t worry. You’re not gaining a son.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
In front of the Preacher, Fletch pinched Barbara’s bottom.
She wriggled. “Nice you could make the time.”
“Hey, I filed two terrific stories this week.” He shook hands with the Preacher.
To one side stood a man Fletch did not recognize. Standing alone, he was watching, not socializing. Middle- aged, he wore khaki trousers, khaki shirt, blue necktie, and a zippered leather jacket. His eyes were light blue. He held a sealed manila envelope.
Fletch said, “I just got a marriage proposal.”
“Are you seriously considering it?” Barbara asked.
The bride wore walking shoes, leg warmers collapsed around her calves, skirt and sweater. She carried a bouquet of flowers.
