Caught Redhanded (16 page)

I stuck my head in and looked right and left. Everything looked normal though something smelled strange. I wrinkled my nose. Looking straight ahead through the dining room into the kitchen, I could see something shining on the counter. Broken glass. The window directly above was broken, but there were no jagged shards caught in the frame like there would be if a neighborhood kid had thrown a ball through. The frame had been scraped clear. Then I noticed the hair standing up on Whiskers’s back. He knew something was wrong, too.

Knowing I was probably making a fool of myself but past caring, I turned and ran, grabbing Mrs. Anderson’s good arm and dragging her with me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as we burst off the porch.

“I don’t know,” I yelled as I propelled her into the yard. I was heading for shelter behind the lilac tree when a horrendous crack of sound tore the air and a great gust of wind knocked us off our feet. Again.

EIGHTEEN

I
sat on the sofa in Maddie and Doug Reeder’s living room, Whiskers in my lap, and felt the tears wetting my face though I wasn’t making any noise. I was beyond noise.

My apartment had been blown up and I had almost been blown up with it. I hadn’t been, but everything that I hadn’t yet taken to Curt’s had been.

“My wedding gown!” I blurted again. “My wedding gown!” That beautiful dress that made me look elegant. That glorious veil that fell from a circle of flowers that allowed my spiky hair to spike as usual.

“It’s okay, honey.” Curt tightened his arm around me. “I’d be happy to marry you in a burlap bag.”

I abandoned my misery for a moment to pull back and glare at him.

He looked startled. “What?”

“You don’t understand!”

“I guess I’m too busy being grateful you’re still alive to worry about some dress.”

“Some dress? Some dress? It was my wedding gown!”

Maddie hurried into the room. “Holly’s finally down for the night.” Six-month-old Holly was the light of Maddie and Doug’s lives.

Maddie came over and knelt in front of me. She took my hands in hers. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nodded miserably. Physically, I was fine. A couple of bruises from hitting the ground too hard, but that was it. Mrs. Anderson was all right, too, though her lovely blue pantsuit would never see use again. She was at her daughter’s, being loved just like I was.

“I lost that beautiful picture of Curt’s and my joined hands that he painted for me for Christmas.”

She nodded, her eyes teary on my behalf.

“I didn’t want to take it off the wall. I loved looking at it and wasn’t going to take it to his house—our house—until Thursday. Then I was going to hang it in the bedroom.” A huge sob caught in my throat. “It’s gone.”

“I’ll paint you another, sweetheart.” Curt kissed the top of my head. “Don’t you worry about it.”

I nodded and patted his knee. “Thanks.” I knew he meant well, but it wouldn’t be the same. That picture represented the turning point for him, the moment when he became willing to risk loving me in spite of his history of loss. The replacement wouldn’t mean the same thing. I sniffed and blinked. Maddie was a blur.

“And my wedding gown, Maddie! My wedding gown!” My nose was so stuffed I could hardly breathe.

“Merry, no! I was so relieved when I thought it was still at the Primrose.”

“Uh-uh. I had my final fitting today and brought it home. It was hanging on the bedroom door.” My voice had risen several octaves by the time I was finished.

Maddie made a horrified noise of total understanding and I threw myself into her arms.

“Honey, it’s okay,” Curt said, patting my back. “We’ll just get you another.”

“It won’t be the same,” I sobbed, my nose choosing this moment to start running. I pulled back before I soaked Maddie’s shoulder. “Tissues.” I held out my hand.

Maddie slapped a box in my hand. “Don’t try to understand, Curt. It’s a girl thing.”

“A piece of advice, buddy,” Doug offered from his observation seat in the leather recliner across the room. “You have to determine if she wants advice, I’ll-fix-it-for-you words or just sympathy. Hands down, this is sympathy time.”

Curt sat still for a moment, processing those astounding words. Then he pulled me close and began rubbing my back. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

Maddie patted my knee and stood. “Your guy’s got great possibilities, Mer. And you—” she walked to Doug and climbed in his lap “—you did very well.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes. I don’t know what the others were thinking, but I was thanking the Lord for the people He’d put in my life since my move to Amhearst.

Then the phone played the opening bars of “Finlandia” and the doorbell rang. For the next couple of hours there were calls that Doug handled and visitors who Maddie welcomed. I sat on the sofa with Curt and tried to be gracious, though I had become so sleepy I could hardly keep my eyes open. Too much crying.

At ten o’clock Maddie opened the door to my parents and Sam, and I ran into their arms. The four of us stood in what we used to call a huggle, a combination hug and huddle, while I cried again.

“Thank you for being here for her,” Dad said to Curt when we finally broke apart. He grabbed Curt’s hand and shook it. I was surprised to see tears in Dad’s eyes.

Then he turned to me. “All right, Merrileigh. What’s going on here?”

We sat down and I told him everything that had happened.

“But we have no idea why!” I finished.

“So you lost everything at the apartment.”

I nodded. “Thankfully I’d taken some of my things to Curt’s already.”

“At least your wedding gown’s safe at the shop,” Mom said.

Teary-eyed all over again, I shook my head.

Mom looked wonderfully horrified. “It’s gone?”

I nodded. “Gone.”

“Oh, Merry!” Her cry was full of anguish.

“Now, Barb,” Dad said. “We’ll get her another. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

Mom and I both glared at him and he got that what-did-I-say look.

“Mars and Venus, Dad,” Sam said. “Though I have no idea why. Personally, I thought that was a good suggestion.”

“I think, Mr. Kramer,” Curt said, “they don’t want fix-it lines. They want commiseration.”

Mom looked at Curt with approval. “Oh, Merry, this one’s definitely a keeper.”

I smiled. He was. And Pittsburgh looked closer than ever.

By midnight I was tucked away in the guest room of Maddie and Doug’s home. Mom, Dad and Sam had gone home with Curt. I wasn’t sure I’d sleep, but after a couple of false starts, I wasn’t aware of anything until sunlight falling across my face woke me. I stared at the ceiling for a few blinks, trying to remember where I was and why. When I remembered, I heaved a huge sigh. So much gone. And whoever was doing this would probably try to hurt me again.

Hurt you? Get a grip, Kramer. Kill you.

I shuddered. If I lay there and thought about my situation any longer, I’d expire from fear and save my unknown enemy the trouble. Forget that. If he wanted me gone, he was going to have to do it himself.

Action. Movement. That’s what I needed. I sat up and reached for the phone by the bed. I called Leslie at the Primrose Salon.

“I heard last night,” she said when I identified myself. “Jolene called. We’ve been on the Internet all night looking for another gown just like yours. I have a couple of possibilities and so does she. Looks like the best bet is one Jolene found. It will be shipped from the UK first thing Monday.”

I was going to have a wedding gown from England?

“It will arrive here late Wednesday. I’ll fit it on Thursday and have it ready for you by late Friday afternoon even if I have to stay up all night. So relax. You’ll be just the bride you wanted to be.”

After offering my profuse thanks, I hung up, amazed and weepy, but this time the tears were happy ones.

Curt, Mom, Dad and Sam came over for breakfast and Maddie made delicious French toast with just a hint of cinnamon. Holly, all blond curls and blue eyes, sat in her high chair and made google eyes at Sam, who appeared smitten back.

“A girl could do worse,” I told Holly as I smiled at my little brother who was now more than six feet tall.

“In about ten years you can have one of your own,” Dad said to Sam, forkful of toast halfway to his mouth. “That way you’ll have your college loans paid off before you get stuck with a mortgage.”

Sam looked horrified, whether at the idea of babies or mortgages I wasn’t sure. “I think I’ll just wait twenty years for Holly to grow up.” He reached over and chucked the baby under the chin. “Right, sweetie?”

She grinned so broadly that the mouthful of stewed peaches Maddie had just shoveled in dribbled out and down her chin.

Sam frowned at her. “In the meantime you can work on your table manners, okay?”

Holly beat happily on her high chair tray with a spoon.

I was struck by how normal everything seemed, yet how weird.

We weren’t nearly as cheery a group a half hour later as we stood in a semicircle in the parking area of my apartment and looked at my rental and Mrs. Anderson’s spiffy red car. I should say, formerly spiffy. Both vehicles were scorched and had windows knocked out, whether by the heat of the blaze or flying debris at the time of the explosion, I didn’t know.

Curt glanced at me with a quick grin. “Poor Mr. Hamish. Another car bites the dust.”

Poor Mr. Hamish indeed. He and I had a long history in which I destroyed the cars he rented me. “It’s a wonder the man even speaks to me.”

“He thinks you’re fascinating.” Curt squeezed my shoulders. “Me, too,” he whispered.

We took the front walk past the lilac, its leaves curled and brown at the edges from the heat of the fire. Then we stood outside what was left of my apartment. The building stood, but my half was pretty much gutted. The feelings of loss and violation were so strong that I had to swallow repeatedly to stay in control.

Why is this happening to me, Lord? And why now?

Yellow crime-scene tape sagged under the intense heat of the sun. Smoke and the rank odor of wet charcoal hung in the humid air. I pressed against Curt and he held me close.

“At least most of my honeymoon clothes are in a suitcase at your house,” I said.

He nodded. “I wish I could tuck you away there, too.”

“Only a week,” I said, but those seven days stretched out like forever. A terrible thought struck me. “What if I bring this trouble with me? What if something happens to your house? To your paintings? To you?”

He shrugged. “Just so nothing happens to you.”

As we stared at the mess, two questions filled all our minds. Who and why?

“You must have seen something when you found that girl,” Sam said.

“I’ve been over it a million times. I didn’t see a thing. And Jolene was with me. No one’s going after her.”

NINETEEN

N
ow that they were sure I was all right, Mom and Dad and Sam left midafternoon to go back to Pittsburgh.

“We’ll be back at the end of the week for the wedding,” Mom said as she kissed me goodbye. “Curt, you take care of her for us.” She gave him a fierce glare, and he quickly nodded agreement.

She must have been satisfied, because her pique reared its unattractive head. “I still have a hard time getting my mind around the fact that you’re getting married. It’s probably because I didn’t have much to do with the planning.” She smiled bravely as Dad darted her a cautionary look. I don’t know whether she saw him, but she said nothing else.

Poor Mom. She was disappointed that the wedding was to be here in Amhearst rather than back home, but she had been very good about keeping her opinion to herself, at least most of the time, a fact that both Curt and I appreciated. I knew she felt cheated that she hadn’t gotten to do much of anything in the preparations. Mom loved to organize and what better thing to organize than your daughter’s wedding?

I knew she felt I was robbing her of one of life’s privileges, an admirable attitude considering the complaining I’d heard her friends do about the headache of getting their daughters’ or sons’ weddings together.

Curt and I had chosen to have a small wedding in Amhearst for several reasons. We’d met here. Our mutual friends were here. And since Curt had no family, his parents and sister having died, I wanted him to be where he felt comfortable, not the outsider.

“We love you, sweetheart.” Mom kissed me goodbye.

“Love you, too,” I said.

“And you, too, Curt.” Mom gave him a hug and a buss on the cheek. “Keep her safe, you hear?”

Curt slung an arm over my shoulders. “I will.”

“We’re counting on you, son,” Dad said as he climbed behind the wheel.

“No pressure, though,” I assured him as we waved them out of sight.

“Yeah, right.” He hugged me. “Come on. Let’s go for a ride. I want you to myself for a while.”

We drove south out of town, meandering along the winding roads to Doe Run, enjoying the scenery, the animals in the fields and each other. Eventually we rounded a curve on one of the back roads, and there sat a covered bridge spanning a sturdy stream.

I was charmed. “I’ve seen the bridge over on Harmony Hill Road in Downingtown, but this one’s so pretty out here in the countryside.” Its sides were painted barn-red and its roof wore gray shingles. We drove through it on a continuation of the macadam road, the roof momentarily shutting out the sun, the sides blocking our view of the softly undulating fields all around. Openings high in the walls just below the roof line allowed for air to circulate.

“It should be raining rather than sunny so we can take protection from the elements,” I said, thinking about the past generations of buggies, wagons, riders and animals who had sheltered here, waiting for a storm to pass. “Beep your horn.”

Curt hit the horn and the honk was wonderfully resonant in the confines.

“The keeping out of the elements had a downside to it,” he said. “In the old days when it snowed and people traveled by sleigh, they had to shovel snow into the bridges so the sleighs could pass over them.”