“Unfortunately, yes.” Charlie met her eyes. “The less you know, the safer you are. Any criminal activity usually stays among criminals—unless bystanders get in the way.”
Lacy obviously didn’t like the answer, but she trusted Charlie. I did too.
The two men left us alone. Almost immediately, we crawled under the comforters in our separate beds, facing each other, our expressions mirrors of fear and uncertainty.
“My wedding wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Lacy whisperedinto the room, low-lit by the rising sunbeams streaming through the windows.
“I know,” I whispered back.
As the moon completely faded from the sky and the sun rose on the horizon, we fell into oblivion for a few blessed hours.
TWENTY-ONE
I slept like the dead and, when I woke, I was surprised to find that Saturday was non-eventful, after all of the chaos and confusion from last night.
I even managed an afternoon horse ride to the backside of the property, which looked much as it had this past summer except for the shedding trees and the lack of wildflowers around the gate. As I clicked and shifted my weight to signal that we would be trotting around the perimeter of the original homestead, I allowed myself to think about anything other than the wedding, and immediately my mind turned to the decision I had to make about where I would live in just a few months. San Diego, Aubergine, or elsewhere.
Moving to the West Coast would allow me to work with a greater variety of animals, including those being cared for at the famous San Diego Zoo. I would learn complicated procedures, and I would become one of the few vets in the country with these specialties. Even after San Diego, I would be called all over the country, getting the opportunity to travel. It was not an opportunity to be shrugged off.
On the other hand, thanks to my newly acquired status as heiress, I had enough money—and, according to Savilla, a built-inlocation in the Carriage House at The Rose—to set up a practice in these mountains I loved.
I gazed up at those high peaks, cutting into the gray sky. The morning fog that created the blue tinges for which these mountains were named had already melted away, and in the bleak start of a snowless winter, the leaves were more rust-red and murky brown after a long autumn of color. The thin branches on the periphery of my vision appeared ready to snap with the slightest tug. Even still, this place felt like it belonged to me, like I could tuck the panorama in the recesses of my mind, returning here from anywhere in an instant.
I spotted two Carolina chickadees, their black-and-white faces distinct against the evergreen. One tiptoed to the edge of the branch and angled itself to hang upside down as it went after its meal. The pair reminded me of my genetic connection to a creature with the courage to step onto the stage of life and take a chance. Savilla, the sister I never knew I wanted, had become a fixture of my day, and now just thinking about her lugging Baby Ollie around from venue to venue made me smile. A year ago, I would’ve never guessed that she would be part of my consideration for returning home.
The light was already fading, and I patted my horse’s neck before tugging on the reins to send us back in the direction of The Rose—which was weirdly taking on the designation of “home” in my mind.
I went to the rehearsal dinner, where, despite the revelations of last night, I sensed that temperaments and behaviors might be calming. Sure, Anton’s family would eventually need to account for their misdeeds, but perhaps the rest of the weekend would pass uneventfully.
Ihad tried to keep a positive state of mind throughout the evening, which was part of the reason it was so jarring to stand in the holly bushes, staring down at the body of Todd Anderson. Based on the notes we’d read in the Salon last night, Todd was supposed to be the one committing murder—not that anyone wanted that either. Still, he wasn’t supposed to be a victim, and my boyfriend wasn’t supposed to be a suspect.
I stared at Charlie wide-eyed as I held up the thin strip of paper with the wordsblame Charliescribbled on them. “What does this note mean?”
The top edge was torn along its length, as if it had been ripped out of a jotter.
The top edge was torn along its length as if it had been ripped out. I recognized the handwriting from the short missives we’d seen last night on Anton’s phone.
Charlie put up both hands. “I have no idea. I’d never even met the priest before this weekend.”
I knew he was telling the truth. None of us knew the man, except for those who’d traveled from Swanson, Texas, to Aubergine, Virginia, for the wedding of the century.
I tried a different tack, blinking against the water at the corners of my eyes that was on the verge of freezing. “Any ideas about who might’ve been sneaking onto the property?”
“I didn’t find anyone or any sign of breaking and entering.”
I studied him for a few seconds longer. This was Charlie, my Charlie, as I’d come to think of him in the past month as our relationship had shifted.
Though I couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment things had changed between us, I was pretty sure it had something to do with Thanksgiving Day, when he’d spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen with Aunt DeeDee, slicing and boiling and mashingpotatoes to make his mother’s recipe for garlic ranch twice-baked potatoes. Then, he’d asked my aunt to teach him how to mix and roll out the perfect pie crust. Savilla and I had been in and out of the kitchen, running to the store to pick up an ingredient they’d forgotten, hurrying to take out the overflowing trash can, and being on standby to wash mixing bowls they would need for the next recipe.
I could tell that Aunt DeeDee was loving the day as much as Charlie, whose kitchen prowess wasn’t exactly a surprise—he’d effortlessly fixed many a dinner for us when he’d traveled back and forth for visits—and definitely something I appreciated about him.
In the past, I’d invited guys home to meet Aunt DeeDee and Momma, but always informally and never for a special occasion. It had felt like second nature to extend the Thanksgiving dinner invite to Charlie though, especially since his parents were basking in their retirement years and traveling for the holiday.
As the four of us had sat around the table that evening, laughing and enjoying the food, I’d looked over at my boyfriend and suddenly realized how much Momma would’ve liked him, would’ve appreciated the way he blended so easily into our family, like a jigsaw puzzle piece that fit just right. That night, I’d had the feeling that I would be happy spending the rest of my holidays sitting across the table from Charlie Strong.
Now, on this cold winter night with a dead man at my feet and my sheriff boyfriend the most obvious suspect, I forced myself to take the lead, steeling myself for the reality that Charlie might be taken off the case at any moment.
I went into go-mode, dividing up duties. I sent Savilla inside to find a sheet to cover the body from further snowfall, and I told Charlie to call Deputy Wright to the scene while I phoned for an ambulance—a strange task when I knew that the person was already dead.
