Chapter Thirty-Four
John wasn't even mad at me for losing his truck. Charli, on the other hand, was royally ticked off at me for losing Vanessa. I hadn't told the whole story -- after all, I'd promised Vanessa -- but I did say that I'd spoken to Vanessa and that she'd sort of 'borrowed' John's truck for a 'little while'.
"Why the hell did you let her go? She's obviously unstable. We really need to get her some help. Damn it, Marty, how could you be so stupid?"
"I'm not stupid! For Christ's sake, Charli, she had a gun!" Oops. Just as I spit that out, the phone rang.
It was Vanessa. She talked to Charli. She talked to her kids. She talked to me. She talked to Charli again. In the end, Charli agreed to keep Vanessa's kids for a few days and Vanessa promised not to do anything foolish. I hoped like hell that her definition of foolish was at least in the same neighborhood as ours.
We were still worried, but we realized we were going to have to let it go for the time being. Tim said she was no longer missing, she hadn't committed a crime, (unless I wanted to have her arrested for locking me in the shed at gun point or for stealing John's truck. I didn't) and, after all, she was an adult.
That night, Tim took me to work, picked me back up when I finished my shift at midnight, and then took me home and slept on my sofa. He woke me up at six thirty Monday morning to tell me he was leaving for work. At nine, the doorbell rang. I put my pillow over my head. It kept ringing.
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Keep your damn pants on."
Oops. Retract that.
It was Zach. He looked good. Virginia Tech t-shirt, khaki shorts, Tevas, and a big, twinkly smile. Damned good.
After a few minutes of enthusiastic greetings, we went inside and sat on the sofa.
"You survived," I said. Real astute.
"I did. They were pretty nice to me, actually. I'm supposed to go to court in a couple of weeks, but we might plea bargain it out before then. I'll probably have to pay a fine and issue a formal apology. Do some community service. Anything's better than more jail time."
"I'm just glad you're okay. I missed you."
After several more minutes of showing him how much, I told him about my weekend.
"You'd have been safer sitting in jail with me."
"Maybe not safer, but definitely happier."
He grinned wickedly. "Definitely not safer. Come here and I'll show you how we would have passed the time."
He was showing me quite nicely when the doorbell rang. "Damn," we said, simultaneously.
It was Mom. She had a huge pile of clothes across her arm.
"I brought these over for you to try on." She pushed past me and headed toward my bedroom, still talking the whole time. "I want you to look extra nice for the party tonight. By the way, I made an appointment for you to get your hair, nails, and makeup done."
She came back into the living room minus the pile of clothes. "It's at four." That's when she noticed Zach.
She took one look at his disheveled shirtless appearance and me in my robe and arched a carefully shaped eye-brow. "Well," she said. That's all. Just 'well'.
"Hello there, Mrs. Sheffield," Zach said. "Nice to see you. Sorry to run off so soon, Marty, but I really have to be going. I'll see you tonight." He stood up, pulled his shirt on, high-tailed it out the door.
I watched him wistfully. With a big sigh, I turned back around to face Mom. "What?"
The rest of the day was a big blur. I tried on eighteen dresses. Sorted through three hundred songs looking for music I wanted played at the party. (Arranging for a DJ had been at the top of my to-do list. The play list was supposed to have been done a week ago. The day I found Wart’s body.) Spent an hour and a half at the salon. Wondered what Destiny and her minions had up their sleeve.
I got home just in time to change into the dress Mom and I had compromised on and hoof it over to the hotel. Charli had turned the ballroom at the local Holiday Inn into a balloon and flower-filled paradise.
A huge table overflowing with all kinds of hors d'oeuvres sat in the center of the room. There was a bar on each end of the room, a table holding a beautiful cake off to one side, and several big round tables for people to sit at when they weren't dancing. It looked like an elegant wedding reception. And in many ways, it was one. Mom and Dad had eloped and had never had a party to celebrate.
At about ten 'til seven, the first guests began to arrive. In lieu of gifts, we'd asked that they come prepared with an anecdote for a video scrapbook. I helped the videographer figure out where to set up and discussed the play list with the DJ I'd hired. Charli and John ran around taking care of the last minute details while Mom and Dad greeted their guests. Dad looked elegant in a black tux with a crimson cummerbund and tie set that exactly matched the color of Mom's silk dress. She looked even more gorgeous than normal. They were both beaming.
Zach arrived about seven-fifteen. He had on a light tan summer weight suit that looked so good, I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
He kissed me. "You look beautiful. I like that dress. Shows off your legs."
"Thanks. I had to do some serious talking to get Mom to agree to it. You wouldn't believe what she had picked out. She wanted me to wear one like Charli's."
We both looked over to where my sister stood. She looked really pretty in an ivory linen suit. The skirt was just above her knees and the jacket fit loosely. My dress was black, short, and a wee bit tight.
"I like the one you have on better," Zach said. "Much better."
His mom arrived about fifteen minutes later. Alone. She looked sober, but she headed to the bar first thing. Zach left me to go after her. He sat her down at a table and fixed her a plate of food. He had just given the plate to Roberta when Fred walked in.
Roberta dropped the plate, spilling food all over the floor. Fred didn't even look at his wife or son, choosing instead to talk to Steve LeFever and Beth Turner, who had arrived together. Zach frantically tried to clean up the mess. Roberta stared at Fred. Fred ignored her.
Nancy Winslow waltzed in while Zach was scrubbing at the carpet. She carefully avoided Fred, Roberta, and Zach. Fred shot her a nasty look, but kept his distance. I fought off a brief panic attack, remembering the fight at the remote broadcast and hoped that they didn't decide to resume their feud right away.
Charli appeared from behind me. "Do you realize that one of these people is most likely a murderer?" she said.
"Pretty scary, hunh?"
She scanned the crowd. "Which one do you think it is?"
"I don't know. Nancy, maybe?"
"Nancy. That's who I think it is, too. I decided that I'm going to get the goods on her tonight."
I looked at my sister carefully. No overt signs of mental illness. "Are you nuts? If you ruin this party, Mom will kill you. Absolutely kill you."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to ruin the party." She nibbled on a mini egg roll. "I showed that betting slip to John. He heard a rumor that Nancy was in cahoots with somebody and they were running a betting ring. And that they were maybe fixing local softball games. I think Warren was her partner. All I've got to do is get some sort of proof. I brought your little recorder so I can tape her confession when I confront her with the slip."
Had my sister become an alien-infested pod person? "Charli, you've really lost it this time. What the hell makes you think Nancy is going to confess to you? She's more likely to pound you into the ground. Does John know about this little plan of yours?"
"Of course not. He'd try and put a stop to it. You know how he is."
"He's not the only one that's going to put a stop to it. Give me the recorder and the betting slip. Now! If you don't, I'm going to tell Mom."
"No."
"Yes! Give it to me."
"No." Charli's voice rang out over the music.
"Girls, what is the meaning of this?" Mom said.
Charli and I glared at each other. "Nothing," we said at the same time.
Mom sent Charli
on a mission to talk to the caterer. "Here, I'll hold your purse," I said to Charli, before she could get away. I grabbed her bag. She tried to jerk it out of my reach, but Mom's look was enough to change her mind. She reluctantly handed me the ivory leather purse.
As soon as she was out of sight I switched the paper and recorder to my purse and went to the lobby for some fresh air. Tim and Detective Theresa Luray were in front of the entrance to the hotel restaurant, hugging. I turned to go back into the ballroom, hoping they wouldn't see me. They did.
"Marty, come here," Tim said.
"Hello, Marty," the detective said. "It's nice to see you again." She smiled.
I mumbled a hello. A really good looking man called for Tim.
"Excuse me. I'll be right back," he said.
Theresa watched him walk away, smiling that ever-present smile of hers. "Isn't he just the greatest?" she said.
"The greatest." Okay, so I might have sounded just a wee bit sarcastic.
She cocked an eyebrow at me. "You don't agree? Well, that's too bad. He certainly thinks the world of you."
"No, no. It's not that. I think Tim's fine. Really. I'm sure you'll be very happy. Oh, he has some bad habits, but who doesn't? He has really lousy taste in music. Did you know he whistles while he's driving? Barry Manilow. He also likes Donny Osmond. You know, that really old stuff from when he was a teen idol? He drools when he sleeps, too. He never remembers to put the toilet seat down. I tell him all the time he needs to....”
Theresa had her head cocked to the side and a puzzled smile. Why was she looking at me like that? She looked over my shoulder and positively beamed. Tim and the man who had called to him joined us. My face felt like I'd sat under a sun lamp too long. How much had Tim heard?
He scowled at me. Not a good sign. The other man put his arm around Theresa Luray's shoulders. It was my turn to look puzzled. He smiled at me.
"I don't believe we've met," he said.
"Michael, this is Marty Sheffield. Tim's friend. Marty, this is my fiancé, Michael Yancey."
Her fiancé? Where the hell did she get a fiancé?
"They just got engaged tonight," Tim said. "Isn't that great?" He smiled.
Michael smiled. Theresa smiled. Marty felt like crawling under the rug, but, being a well-brought-up young southern lady, smiled too.
"Congratulations." I managed to stammer it out before I excused myself and high-tailed it to the restroom to try and get my size seven and a half black leather Aerosole out of my mouth.