Going to the Chapel: A Novella (9 page)

Levi hiked down to the creek behind the rental cabin, picked up a stone, and skipped it across the water. Beyond the creek, the mountains rose in jagged peaks. A few lone houses scattered on the edges of the cliffs and ridges, offering the owners a magnificent view of the valley below.

He missed his ranch. Missed the flat land of Texas and his horses and his job.

Was he crazy to miss chasing hardened criminals?

Although he had to admit these rolling hills and mountains were gorgeous. Peaceful and tranquil.

Except investigating Izzy Sassafras and pretending to be a loving fiancé felt . . . wrong.

Since when did you grow a conscience?

If she’d helped Ray LaPone scam money from innocent women, she had to pay.

Frustrated, he strode back up to the cabin, went in, and booted up his computer.

He accessed the information Elsa had sent and studied it.

Ray LaPone was born in Corpus Christi to a single mother who’d been married five times. Each divorce had ended in a settlement that had earned her a profit and a bigger house. So Ray had grown up feeling what—entitled?

Did LaPone’s childhood have something to do with the fact that he was preying on grieving widows?

He skimmed farther and noted that LaPone had no priors, except for a juvie record that was sealed.

His bank account surprisingly held only a couple thousand dollars, a low balance for a man who had allegedly been robbing the country-club set. But he’d most likely set up some offshore accounts they hadn’t yet discovered.

As far as work, employment records were sketchy. LaPone proclaimed to be a salesman for a company called Chem-tech. He clicked on the website and skimmed the summary. The company worked with oil refineries and supposedly was on the edge of new technology that was more environmentally friendly.

Was the company bogus?

He texted Elsa to investigate LaPone’s business, hoping they’d find something concrete to nail the bastard.

Tomorrow when he met with Izzy again, he’d probe for more information on her life in Texas.

If she admitted she was married to LaPone, it would open the door for more questions.

And if she lied, it could mean that she’d wasn’t the sweet, innocent woman she appeared to be, but a conniving thief who’d stabbed her cohort-in-crime in the back.

With the preparations for the inn underway, Izzy picked up some of Lulabelle’s homemade chicken potpie at the diner and ate at the shop so she could finish the sketches she’d promised Levi.

Uner Pinkerton and Nosy Nellie strolled by to peek in the window, and she gave them a friendly wave, determined not to feed the gossip vine. But the kitten hissed at them through the window as if he realized they’d come from an enemy camp.

By the time Izzy got back to her aunt’s house, Daisy was buried in cooking utensils and cake batter. Aunt Dottie was curled by the fire, crocheting placements for the dining table at the inn. The kitty jumped down to run to her aunt, then plopped on the floor at her feet and fell asleep again.

She didn’t see Caroline, but as she climbed the steps, her sister’s voice echoed from inside her bedroom. She was on the phone again, just as she had been the night before. “I love you, too, honey. I can’t wait to get back.”

Izzy’s heart squeezed. At least Caroline was happy and had found love.

To Izzy, it seemed like just yesterday that they’d been teenagers talking boyfriends, pedicures, and prom dresses.

Except the last few days there hadn’t been any giggling or sharing secrets.

She didn’t even know her sisters’ husbands’ names.

More memories of childhood crashed back as she glanced at the bulletin board full of pictures in her room. She and Daisy and Caroline wading in the creek. Riding their first horses at the stables in the mountains. Eating boiled peanuts and picking strawberries. Diving into the icy river from the bridge at the swimming hole where the kids hung out in the summer.

Exhausted and weary, she changed into her pj’s and crawled into bed. But more memories carried her back to when she was a little girl, and she had her sisters had first come to live with their aunt.

She closed her eyes, but an image of her mother being hauled toward the police car flashed before her.

“I found your daddy in bed with my hairdresser! The sleazy two-timing son of a bitch!”

Izzy could see the column Nosy Nellie had written as if it was yesterday.

Naughty in Matrimony

By Nellie Needlemyer

MARY KAY SASSAFRAS ARRESTED FOR MURDER!

Late today, witnesses reported seeing Mary Kay Sassafras attack local hairstylist Connie McElroy in the Fluff and Dye. Mary Kay shoved Connie’s head under the hot water in the washing station, then poured red dye all over her blonde hair. She held her down until she fried Connie’s blonde curls, then chopped her hair into pieces.

Apparently that morning she’d had a complete out-of-body at the sight of Connie’s fake eyelashes on her husband’s pillow, but he’d already left for the chicken plant, so she went to confront Connie first. Some said she was so cunning that she sat quietly while Connie gave her a perm and styled her hair before she went berserk.

Patrons of the diner across the street then saw Mary Kay fly out of town in her Corvair, peeling rubber and screaming that she was going to make Waylin suffer.

When she arrived home, she grabbed the cast-iron skillet and chased Waylin down to the pea patch, where she slammed him over the head with the frying pan.

When Sheriff Harper showed up to arrest her, she claimed she hadn’t meant to kill him—that most of the blood on the chickenshit’s clothes was chicken blood, not blood from his head injury.

But he was still dead. The peas hadn’t fared too well either.

Mary Kay’s sister, Dottie, a pillar of the community and the head of the garden club—and no stranger to trouble where her volatile sister was concerned—had no comment on the incident, although she kindly offered to take in Mary Kay’s hellion daughters.

The Prayer Circle is holding a candlelight vigil tonight at seven p.m. to pray for Dottie.

Izzy wrestled with the covers, trying to banish the memory.

She’d only been five at the time, and hadn’t understood how her mama had lost control like that.

Not until a few days ago, when she’d discovered Ray sneaking money from her panty drawer to buy teddies for the other women in his life.

An image of blue-haired Mona Medensky in a thong made her shudder. There should be a cutoff age for women to wear thongs.

If her daddy had been a cheater and liar like Ray, how could she blame her mother?

Caroline’s laugh echoed through the wall, and tears blurred Izzy’s eyes. When she was alone and scared and crying those first few weeks after they’d moved in with Aunt Dottie, Caroline had been the one to comfort her. To pat her back and sing to her. To assure her everything would be all right.

Caroline had promised that nothing bad would ever happen to her again.

Izzy wiped at her tears.

But then she’d hurt Caroline . . .

How would she ever earn her forgiveness and make things right?

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Levi stared into Izzy’s sparkling eyes, his heart pounding. She had put some kind of spell on him the moment he’d met her.

How could he resist falling in love with her?

He cradled her delicate hand in his and smiled. “I do.”

The reverend turned to Izzy and addressed her. “And do you, Isobel Wynona Sassafras, take this man, Levi Matthew Fox, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Teardrops glittered on Izzy’s eyelashes. “I do.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Levi dragged her against him and kissed her senseless. Then he carried her to the bride’s room for a private rendezvous.

The reception would have to wait. The guests would have to wait.

He had to have Izzy now.

Levi jerked awake, sweating and shaking all over. What the hell? Why had he dreamed he was marrying anyone? Much less Izzy Sassafras?

For God’s sake, the night before he’d been on the phone for half an hour listening to his youngest brother ranting about his soon-to-be ex. The woman was a maniac and had thrown all his clothes into a compost pile. She’d been burning it as they spoke. His brother claimed the fumes could wake the dead three counties away.

Shaken by the very thought of marriage, he showered and dressed, then checked his computer. Elsa had sent him a background check on Izzy. He needed a distraction to keep him from fantasizing about her body today when they met. Maybe he’d postpone the meeting.

Dammit. He needed to move this case along more quickly before the situation spiraled out of control, and he wound up paying for flowers, wedding cake, and a band that he would never use.

The notes on Izzy’s mother’s arrest caught his eye.

Mary Kay Sassafras had been arrested on murder charges when her husband, Waylin Sassafras, was found with his head bashed in from the same cast-iron skillet she used to fry her Sunday chicken. When questioned, Mary Kay shrieked, “He deserved what he got! I had to pay that bitch for a blow dry while she was blowin’ Waylin for free!”

Levi made a pot of coffee, his determination renewed. Izzy’s mother had killed their father for cheating. Izzy had stolen money from her own husband.

Like mother, like daughter?

Today he needed to trip her up so he could call the sheriff and tie up the case. After Izzy passed a few hours in a cell, hopefully he could convince her to turn on Ray and reveal what the bastard was up to.

Then Levi would get out of Matrimony as fast as he could.

And thankfully he’d never have to hear about the magic of marital bliss again.

Levi felt as if he’d walked into a time warp when he ate breakfast at Lulabelle’s diner. Apparently the men met to eat and play checkers while the women gathered to trade gossip as they started their day.

Red-checked tablecloths held vases of fresh flowers. Photos of townsfolk and their antique cars as well as pictures of the local cornbread festival and fishing contests decorated the walls.

Lulabelle’s hair was a frosted pale pink and teased like a bird’s nest. But everyone loved her jovial nature, and word was that her biscuits and red-eyed gravy were the best in the state.

He tried them and had to agree.

She refilled his coffee with a wink. “You’re that man getting married in the little chapel on the hill, ain’t you?”

Levi’s stomach knotted at the lie. “Yes, I’m meeting with Izzy Sassafras for a tasting.”

“Well, honey, you’re in for a treat. Those girls can stir things up, but that Daisy is one fine cook. Even when she was a teenager, she gave me a run for my money at the county fair. My coconut cream pie won, but Daisy was close behind with her chocolate Kahlua cake.”