Fruit of All Evil Page 18

  “Ian, stop the truck,” I said urgently.

  “’K.” He pulled to the side of the road and followed my glance. “What’s up?”

  “I thought . . . I’m not sure. It was something from my childhood that I think may have had something to do with Madeline’s murder.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  I thought a minute more, then decided I was probably searching for something that wasn’t there. I so desperately wanted Madeline’s killer found that I was finding answers where there couldn’t possibly be any.

  “I don’t know. Sorry about that. We can go.”

  I craned my neck to look at the house as we drove away, but whatever spark might have been there a few minutes before was now completely gone.

  Twenty-one

  I woke early the next morning and decided to call off the rehearsal. I didn’t see any way Madeline’s murder was going to be solved before tomorrow. I was going to give it another half hour before I called everyone. I hoped Mamma Maria hadn’t already made the peach delight.

  But then Allison called. “Why aren’t you here?”

  I looked at the clock beside my bed and confirmed that it was still way before the crack of dawn.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’re all still hoping that the wedding will happen. We’re rehearsing.”

  “Who’s rehearsing? And why so early?”

  “The only ones not here are you, Linda, Drew, and Alan. Your surprise wedding has us all on the edges of our seats, and we thought we should have a rehearsal breakfast just to be safe.”

  “Before breakfast and without the wedding party?”

  Allison paused. “If that’s what it takes.”

  I hesitated as my gears started to mesh. “Okay, Hobbit and I will be right there.”

  I’d all but given up on the wedding, since it didn’t seem anyone was much closer to finding the killer. I’d talked to Sam the day before, and told him about Bud Morris and Clarissa O’Bannon. He told me he’d look into it. He also told me that the police had investigated the bank employees, but hadn’t yet been able to find anything substantial.

  But leave it to Bailey’s vendors to want to make sure everything was just right, especially for one of their own, another vendor and friend.

  I got dressed in my cleanest overall shorts and loaded Hobbit into the truck. She was thrilled to be getting some extra attention, even if it did take away from her sleeping time.

  When I got to Bailey’s, I made my way to the area Allison had said would be perfect for the wedding. And she had been right. As I walked into the large tent, she was rearranging chairs and had somehow folded the canvas walls so that the entire back wall, the wall that the guests would be facing, was open to the rolling South Carolina countryside; a countryside that was just beginning to see the light of day.

  “Allison, this is perfect,” I said as I jumped in and joined in her arranging efforts.

  “I thought it might work.” Not one strand of hair was loose from her ponytail, and there wasn’t a single bag under her eyes. She had the energy of ten toddlers. “You just missed everyone else. They ran to their stalls to make sure they were ready for the day, but said they’d be back to show you what they’d come up with.”

  I shouldn’t have wasted one moment worrying about my duties as Linda’s Number One. Once everyone heard about the wedding, they took on their jobs with vigor. Actually, I was suddenly concerned that I should have reined them in. The wedding was far from a sure thing.

  “Great. Thanks. I hope we get to have it,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as doubtful as I felt.

  Allison stopped arranging. “We’re prepared, and it didn’t take much to get there. We discussed it and decided that we didn’t want to be caught off guard, so with each of us doing our part, there really wasn’t much to it.”

  “Okay.”

  As we continued to set up the white plastic chairs, I thought I’d see if our twin psychic connection was in working condition.

  “Al, think about our childhood a minute.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  “Ian and I drove by our old house yesterday, the one on Rural Route 6, and something seemed to flash at me from our childhood. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but it seemed to have something to do with Madeline Forsyth. Did Mom and Dad know her when we were kids?”

  “Gosh, I have no idea. I don’t remember knowing her at all. I’d heard of her, but until last Friday, when you told me that she was Drew’s mother, I had no idea.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What do you think you remembered?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did. It was a flash—literally a flash of something in my mind’s eye, but I lost it as quickly as it came.”

  “Quit trying so hard to think about it. It’ll probably come back to you on its own. Have something handy so you can write down your impressions. If you remember something substantial, I bet I could expand on it.”

  It wasn’t easy to let go of the inkling that I was almost on to something, but there was plenty to keep me busy.

  Just as Allison and I finished placing the chairs, Abner Justen joined us. When I’d first started my farmers’ market business, he’d been the one to teach me the finer points of creating and growing a successful market stall. He’d been like a father to me for a long time, but that didn’t change the facts that he was old and cranky and was bound to do things his way. I was shocked when he showed up with a handful of pictures and wanted input.

  “Becca, here are some sample bouquets I created. Look at them and tell me which ones you and Linda might want.” He handed me the pictures and rubbed a finger under his nose.

  There were an all-white bouquet, a multicolored bouquet, some small bouquets, and some large bouquets, all of them done with the wildflowers that Abner grew in a science fiction-like greenhouse on his property. They were all gorgeous.

  “Thanks, Abner.” Picking Linda’s bouquet felt too personal but, like everyone else, I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry. I decided she’d like something with lots of color, so I picked a medium-sized bouquet of soft pastel colors. “This one looks perfect.”

  “Very good. I’ll decorate in here, too, if we have the wedding.” Abner smiled. I’d never seen him so happy about doing something.

  “That’s a great idea,” I said as he turned and walked around to study the rest of the tent space.

  “You know, weddings and babies bring out the best in everyone,” Allison commented as she noticed Abner’s excitement. “Come help me with this.” She was maneuvering the white arbor that Linda’s pastor would stand under as he joined the happy couple in marriage. “I’m trying to find just the right spot.”

  “You need to move it about two feet to your right,” Abner said before he left the tent.

  “He was right,” Allison admitted after we moved the arbor. “It really balances the entire space.”

  “Has Sam given you any indication that the murder will be solved in the next twenty-four hours or so?” Allison asked.

  “No. Of course, he’d like it solved right this minute, but I don’t think he has one lead stronger than any others.”

  “As far as you know, Drew is definitely leaving for duty?”

  “Yes. No question. Ian and I talked to him about it, and he feels it’s his duty, and his alone.”

  “I guess I understand that, but . . .”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you thought of telling Sam about Jeanine’s letter?” I asked quietly after making sure no one else was around.

  “I don’t know, Becca. I’ve had a hard time with that one. I think I probably should. I don’t think she’s the killer, and I don’t think she’s in danger. I think she’s just being Jeanine—paranoid about something—and I want to respect her privacy. But I do wish she’d let someone know she was leaving.”

  “That would’ve been helpful. I’ve come across a couple of other seemingly related incid
ents involving the bank. I told Sam about them. It might help if you tell him about Jeanine.”

  “Really? What else have you heard?”

  I told her about Bud and Clarissa. She was impressed that I’d made a presentation to Maytabee’s, and convinced she should talk to Sam. In fact, she seemed relieved to have a good reason to break Jeanine’s confidence.

  Soon, Barry, of Barry Good Corn, joined Allison and me, wrangling his large body to the best of his ability. He wore overalls with a clean T-shirt underneath. He’d brushed his hair and had shaved with care. His outfit was almost as formal as Barry ever dressed. Linda had asked him to give her away.

  “Becca, I promise I’ll wear something nicer if we have the wedding.” He patted his hair to make sure it was in place.

  I was touched. “You look great,” I said. “Linda will be pleased no matter what you wear.”

  “Well . . . shoot.” Barry’s cheeks reddened. I was often surprised at the tender heart he carried beneath his large exterior.

  “Have a seat, Barry,” Allison said. “We’ll go through everything once the pastor gets here.”

  “You even invited him?” I asked.

  “Yes. We want to make sure everything goes well.” Allison looked at me like I was crazy for thinking otherwise.

  “Got it,” I said a second later. I should have known. Allison didn’t improvise anything.

  All the market vendors were invited to the wedding, but for the rehearsal Abner, Carl Monroe, his girlfriend, Mamma Maria, Don, and Ian served as the guests. I was surveying the sparse group when Reverend O’Reilly, I presumed, joined us.

  He wore a simple button-down shirt and khaki slacks. He had a ready smile, and his hair was so red and unruly that I thought it might ignite at any second.

  “And where’s the lovely couple?” he asked after I introduced the rest of us.

  “They’re not here,” I replied.

  “Well, not to worry. I can wait a little while.”

  “They won’t be at the rehearsal.”

  “Oh, dear, are they having issues?”

  “No, this is the rehearsal for a surprise wedding.”

  Reverend O’Reilly blinked. “That’s . . . interesting. I’ve never presided over a surprise wedding. Are you sure it will be a happy surprise?”

  “Yes, positive. That is, if it happens at all.” In summary and without mentioning the murder, I explained that there were some extenuating circumstances, but the ultimate goal of the couple was indeed to be married even though their schedules had become an issue.

  Reverend O’Reilly, being the ultimate good sport and probably suspecting there was more to the story but not needing to pry for answers, agreed to pretend along with the rest of us.

  “We need a bride, a groom, and a best man,” I said as I surveyed the smallish group of onlookers. “Carl and Mamma, will you be the bride and groom, and Ian, how about taking over the role of best man?”

  Their romance going well, Carl and Mamma agreed easily, and Ian sent me a sly smile as he stood and took his place next to the arbor. Carl stood next to him and did his best to look both excited and scared to death, like any groom.

  The reports I’d heard about Herb’s abilities with the violin had not been overstated. He was fabulous, and I took a slow saunter, as maid of honor, down the aisle just so everyone could enjoy the music longer. It was difficult not to watch Ian watching me. Neither of us would have fit the fairy-tale description of a bride and groom, but his glance might have been the most romantic thing I’d ever seen. It was difficult to keep my eyes on his without blushing—I adored him as much as I thought he adored me, but I wasn’t sure we needed to be sharing that with the rest of the world just yet. Fortunately, Allison interrupted and saved us from a further awkward public display of affection.

  “Bec, you’re supposed to walk slowly like that, but with more even steps. And don’t jaunt so much. Try it again,” Allison suggested.

  I went back to the starting place and waited until Allison cued me to begin. Herb was well into a song before she sent me off.

  “Okay, Herb, once Becca gets to the end of the aisle, stop a moment and then begin the Wedding March. Mamma, be ready.”

  Though Mamma was tall, thin, busty, blonde, and beautiful, she didn’t necessarily fit the description of a fairy-tale bride. She had an over-the-top-ness about her, and I doubted there was a wedding dress in existence that was cut as low or showed as much cleavage as the shirt she was wearing. She was also one of the sweetest people I knew. The glance she shared with Carl was just as personal as the one between me and Ian. Ian must have noticed, too, because he raised his eyebrows conspiratorially at me. I just smiled.

  “Ian and Becca, both of you take one step backward,” Allison ordered as Mamma joined us at the arbor. “Good. Okay, now the vows, I suppose.”

  Reverend O’Reilly went through a quick version of the vows. Carl and Mamma were perfect in their roles, and something told me we’d be hearing about another wedding soon. I told myself not to be overly friendly with Mamma, just in case she found herself in search of a Number One.

  All in all, though we did it without the main participants, the rehearsal was a resounding success, in my opinion. And to top it off, Mamma had brought the peach delight.

  The coffee and yummy food made a perfect end to the short rehearsal. Reverend O’Reilly stayed and joined the breakfast.

  As I was conferring with Stella on just exactly how much time she would need to frost the cake she’d already baked, Sam walked into the tent, his expression serious and concerned.

  “Sam, what’s up?” Allison asked as she greeted him. I tried to excuse myself from the conversation with Stella so I could join them, but Sam took Allison’s arm and led her out of the tent.

  Allison came back shortly. She acted like there was nothing wrong, but I knew something wasn’t quite right. She stood to the side of the group and casually kept glancing at her phone.

  “What’s up?” I asked as I sidled next to her.

  She kept her head down, pretended to look at her phone, and said quietly, “Sam found Jeanine. Shhh. We’ll talk about it later.”

  Later? I wanted to exclaim. This was not something that I wanted to put off. I immediately had a million questions, but there were too many people around, and Allison soon disappeared to attend to other market business. One of Ian’s customers was talking to him, so he wasn’t available for commiseration.

  It was a miracle I didn’t abandon my duties as Number One and chase either my sister or Sam Brion to find out more. Instead, I made small talk with my other friends and then patiently helped clean up before I searched for Allison.

  Of course, I couldn’t find her. Why aren’t people where I need them to be?

  I escaped to my truck and called Sam.

  Twenty-two

  “Brion,” he answered on the first ring. “Hey, Becca, I had a feeling you’d be calling.”

  “You found Jeanine?” I asked.

  “Yes. She’s home and she’s fine.”

  “Where was she?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t think she had anything to do with Madeline’s murder.”

  “Why?”

  “A credit card record and some surveillance tapes. I might not know exactly where she was the whole time she was gone, but at the time of Madeline’s murder she was in Charleston, filling her van with gas. I just confirmed it this morning. I drove by her farm to check on the chickens and that damn . . . that cat, and found she was home.”

  “And she wouldn’t tell you what she’d been up to?”

  “Not completely, no, and legally I have no right to pry, since she couldn’t have committed the murder. Taking a trip to Charleston or taking some time off isn’t a crime.”

  “But . . .” I protested. There was still something strange about her disappearance. Had Allison told him about the letter yet? I didn’t know, and I couldn’t find my sister, so I didn’t bring it up. “I still wonder, don’t you, Sam?” />
  “Sure, but again, I have no legal authority to question her further.”

  Bing! I got what he was saying, and I was caught between glee and disbelief. He wanted me to talk to Jeanine—as a friend and Bailey’s co-vendor. Sam had told me that he thought I had good instincts. He trusted me in ways law enforcement officers probably shouldn’t trust civilians. I would have hugged him if I could’ve reached through the phone.

  I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I give it a try?”

  “I don’t see why having a friend stop by to inquire about her well-being would hurt anything.”

  “On my way.”

  “Call me if you learn anything.”

  I hung up and steered my truck to Jeanine’s house. I had no idea what she could tell me that would help solve the murder of Madeline Forsyth, but talking to Jeanine was a piece of the puzzle that I couldn’t let go of. Even though she hadn’t killed Madeline, had she perhaps confronted her regarding the foreclosure letter? Again, a letter I wasn’t supposed to know anything about. Keeping secrets was rough.

  Solving Madeline’s murder before tomorrow was looking less and less realistic, but what if Jeanine knew something? I’d get whatever I could from her.

  I parked in front of her small house and made my way to the front door. As I knocked, I pasted a friendly smile on my face. We’d always gotten along, but Jeanine would still find my visit far from ordinary.

  “Becca?” Jeanine said as she opened the door. “Hi.” She stepped onto the small front porch and looked around. “What are you doing here?”

  “I . . . well, I was worried about you. You disappeared, and I thought I’d just come see if you were doing okay.” So much for easing into anything.

  “I was only gone for a couple days.” Jeanine folded her arms in front of her chest. She continued to look around as if we were being watched.

  “Barry didn’t know you were leaving, and he said that the two of you always stay in touch.” As I often noted to myself, I wasn’t good at subtle.

  She looked up at me. It was rare that anyone other than Hobbit had to look up to address me. Jeanine was so little that in the rare moments I stood close to her, I had a surge of self-assured bigness. But this time it was different. She was suspicious of my motives because she was suspicious of everyone’s motives, and I was sounding accusatory instead of friendly. I smiled again, but it felt forced and I thought I might be about to lose her.