The Icing on the Corpse (27 page)

Chapter 43

The weather had finally started to turn around. It felt like spring even though it was a tad early. Thankfully, the snow had mostly melted with the recent warm spurt, so they could reach the gazebo on the green. Winter could stick around for another month or more, if it wanted to be a jerk. But this Valentine's Day was beautiful.

Stan stepped back and admired her work. She had spent the morning setting up for Gus and Lila's wedding. The gazebo on the green was decorated with white streamers and bows. A high table inside it held the strawberry-flavored, heart-shaped wedding cake, which had come out even better than awesome, if she did say so herself. The triple-decker cake had three sizes of hearts, the bottom two slightly raised on cake stands so they could all have the fancy ribbon frosting. A plastic Shih Tzu and Irish setter dressed in wedding clothes stood on the top layer. Stan had taken about a thousand pictures of this cake for her Pawsitively Organic Facebook page. Eating it would be a shame. Two smaller tables sat on either side of the wedding cake table, one with an assortment of her best pupcakes, the other with a platter of regular treats, also in assorted flavors. A smaller platter held cat treats for Dede's felines, Mittens and Diamond. Lastly, a table set slightly apart held a platter of fruit, cheese, and crackers for the human guests.

Now, if only the dogs didn't go racing in there and knocking everything over.

“This is the bomb,” Izzy said, jumping off her stool. Stan had coerced her into helping set up, and she'd just finished tying white balloons on the fence a couple of the town maintenance staff had put up for the event. No one wanted any dogs running off, but they also wouldn't have as much fun on leash the entire time. “Where are they going to exchange vows?”

“I think right in front of the gazebo.” Stan glanced around to check the space out and saw Brenna standing by the fence, alone, watching them.

“Who's reading them?”

“Dede, most likely. She has some doggie reverend coming.” Stan ignored Izzy's snicker and glanced at her watch. “Can you hold down the fort for a minute while I get my dogs? I just want to make sure nothing happens to the cake.”

Izzy grinned. “Are you going to let anyone eat it later? These guys are just waiting for their chance.” She indicated her three dogs, sitting like angels in the grass, watching carefully. They fully understood that special treats were in their near future.

“Maybe.” Stan winked. She walked over to where Brenna stood. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Brenna shifted from one foot to the other and shoved her hands in her pockets. “It, uh, looks great out here.”

“Thanks. It does, doesn't it?” Stan nodded in approval. “How are you?”

“Crappy.” Brenna took a miserable breath and blew it out. “I'm sorry, Stan. I acted like a jerk. I shouldn't have gotten upset at you.”

“Bren, it's okay,” Stan said. “I should've told you guys about the investigation. I chickened out.”

“I'm still sorry,” Brenna said.

“Okay. So am I.” Stan hugged her.

“And we owe you one. You brought Helga's killer to justice. Thank you,” Brenna said, stepping back.

Same thing Jessie had said. “It wasn't just me,” Stan said.

“You cared enough to figure it out, though.”

“Of course I care.” Stan looked away. “I care a lot. About all of you.” And right now it was killing her that she and Jake weren't back on secure footing yet.

“I didn't really take the job, you know,” Brenna said.

Stan smiled. “No?”

“Nope, so I, uh, wondered if I could have my job with you back?” Brenna asked hopefully.

“Can you start today?” Stan asked, and Brenna smiled, her first real smile since they'd started talking.

“You bet.”

“Good. Go help Izzy, then. I'm just running home to get the dogs.”

Brenna obliged and Stan hurried across the street to her house. She'd just clipped the leashes on her dogs' collars when a van pulled up in her driveway. Curious, she looked outside. Adrian Fox got out and walked to the door.

She opened it. “Hi.”

“Hi. I wanted to tell you we're leaving.”

Stan wasn't sure how she felt about that. “Come in for a second. No ghosts?” she asked as he stepped inside.

Fox hesitated. “There's something on those tapes. But with everything that's gone on, I'm going to sit on it for a while. We'll reach out to Izzy in a few weeks and see what she wants to do.”

Stan nodded. “That's nice of you. It was really great to meet you. I always wanted to go on a ghost hunt. Thanks for making that happen.”

Fox smiled. “Anytime.” He paused, then muttered something that sounded like “screw it” and pulled Stan into his arms. He skillfully kissed her, then let her go, leaving her staring at him in shock. He cocked his head. “Anything?”

Stan thought about that for a minute, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Fox smiled. “Worth a shot. Take care, Stan.” And he slipped out the door, to his car, back to his superhero bad-boy world.

Stan watched him go. Meeting him had been amazing. And while he had some superhero traits, he was really just a regular guy. Nothing like Jake, who was way better than a superhero. And a better kisser. Now she just had to make everything right with him. As soon as this wedding was over, she would tackle that.

“Come on, guys, let's do this.” She hurried back across the street with the dogs just as Dede drove up. Stan waved at her as she parked on the street and got out of her car, the bride and groom trotting obediently after her.

“This is lovely!” Dede breathed, taking the scene in. “Here, I just have to get the cats.” She handed the dogs to Stan.

They looked adorable. Lila wore a white tutu with a beaded collar that resembled pearls. Gus wore a black jacket with tails. “Where's his top hat?” Stan asked.

She was joking, but Dede reached into her front seat and pulled it out. “He throws it off, so we'll have to just put it on for pictures.”

Dede leaned into the car again and returned with two cats on leashes. Mittens and Diamond didn't look fazed in the least, as if they did this all the time.

“Wow. Nutty would not be happy with me if I had him on a leash,” Stan said. “How do you get them to do that?”

“I've been taking them on leashes since they were babies,” Dede said. “They'll have a great time. And I didn't invite any dogs that don't like cats. Now, show me the cake. I can't wait to see it!”

Stan brought her over to the masterpiece. Dede
oohed
and
aahed
appropriately, then whipped out a smartphone and began taking pictures. “I have to put this on Facebook,” she said.

Facebook? Stan smothered a giggle. Who said seniors weren't progressive? She welcomed the publicity—they'd complement her own page nicely.

Guests began arriving in droves. It looked like the entire town's dog population had been invited. The “reverend,” one of Dede's good friends who was a real-life justice of the peace, arrived and huddled with Dede to get ready for the vows. Scruffy and Henry were playing with Izzy's dogs, so Stan didn't have anything to do until it was time to serve the cake. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. Who knew a doggie wedding would make her so happy?

She grabbed a seat and took a quick break. The ceremony was just about to begin when Jake slid into the seat next to her. He had Duncan firmly on a leash, which was why she didn't get advance notice that he was there. Duncan tried to jump into her lap. Jake reined him in. He settled for dropping his chin on her leg. She bent down for a kiss. Duncan obliged. She wondered if Jake would.

“How's it going? Everything looks great,” Jake said.

“Thanks. It's going well. Almost time for the ceremony.” He'd sought her out. Did that mean he forgave her? They'd barely spent any time together after Carla's arrest, largely due to her wedding planning, but also due to the awkwardness that had popped up between them that neither of them knew what to do with. She was also giving him space as all the news following the arrest flooded the town.

Arthur had confessed on the record and he was on “house arrest” while they figured out what to do with him. Stan suspected he wouldn't spend a day in prison. Carmen Feliciano had spoken with him, and while no one knew the details of that conversation, both had seemed at peace with the outcome.

Cyril Pierce had been released from prison and was writing stories like crazy, at his father's request. It could be a big break for his career. Reporting on a sixty-year-old cold case involving one's own father was a journalistic goldmine. What Cyril chose to do with that remained to be seen.

Even though Don Miller had resorted to bribery—not sabotage, said a structural engineer Jake brought in to inspect the basement stairs in the old library building—to protect his mother from implicating herself in the Constantine murder, he'd been cleared of any suspicion in his mother's death. Carla had acted alone and the murder was being called a “crime of passion.” Which left Don a single father trying to explain to two young boys why their mommy wasn't coming back. All around, a sad story.

But Frog Ledge would move past it with steely New Englander resolve. Today, at least, was a happy day. And Jake was here, sitting with her, so maybe things were going to be okay with them, too. She could only hope.

“So what are you doing later?” Jake asked.

The hope bloomed brighter. “I don't know,” she said. “Why?”

“I was hoping we could go out for Valentine's Day. Like on a date.” Jake pulled his baseball cap off and rubbed his forehead. “God, do I sound stupid or what? I don't know what it is about you that makes me act like a teenaged fool.”

Stan laughed. His nervousness was cute. “I would love to go out for Valentine's Day.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. I was gonna set up the gazebo out here for us, but I figured it would be too cold. We'll have to save that for the summer. Or at least spring. So I made us reservations at that place you've been saying you wanted to try. The Italian place down by the water in Mystic.”

“Really?” She clapped her hands. “I'm so excited!”

“Good. I'll pick you up at six?”

“Sounds perfect.” She looked up as Dede motioned for her to join them in the gazebo. “Time for the ceremony,” she said to Jake. “I'll be back.”

Once the doggie vows had gone off without a hitch, she and Dede served up the cake. Stan was relieved that all the dogs who sampled it loved it—and the pupcakes were a hit, too. A lot of them came back for seconds. As she served up the last few pieces, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find Sarah Oliver smiling at her.

“I heard you were running this shindig today, and I wanted to come down and personally say thank you,” Sarah said.

“Please, Sarah, don't thank me. I wish things could've turned out differently.”

“It's okay,” Sarah said. “My mother is at peace now. All she really wanted was to get her story told. You helped with that. And with Benedict. Everything's good.”

Touched, Stan hugged her. “Thank you for coming by.”

“You're welcome,” Sarah said. She blew Stan a kiss and turned to go. Then she stopped and turned back. “By the way, Frannie's really proud of you. She says Sabrina's trying to find a way back so she can sample your cooking.”

Stan felt chills whistle up her spine. She'd never told anyone in town her grandmother's name, and she knew for a fact she'd never talked about Sabrina, her gram's first dog. She opened her mouth to ask Sarah how she could possibly know that, but the other woman was already walking away, skirts swirling around her. Stevie's song “If You Ever Did Believe” played in Stan's head, a soundtrack for the moment.

“Everything okay?” Jake materialized at her elbow.

“Yeah, fine,” Stan said, still staring after Sarah.

“Was that Sarah?”

“It was. She came to thank me.” Stan turned her full attention to him. “Here, Dunc. Seconds?” She offered him a treat, which he wolfed down.

“More like thirds,” Jake said. “But it's a special occasion.”

Dede joined them in the gazebo, all smiles. She threw her arms around Stan. “This was such a wonderful day! I can't even begin to thank you enough. This is fabulous.” She dabbed at her eyes. “So wonderful I could cry.”

“Thank you, Dede,” Stan said. “It was great fun.”

“And it looked like a great success,” a voice from behind Stan said. They all turned. Stan's mouth dropped open. It had been almost a year, but she'd recognize Sheldon Allyn anywhere. The famed, flamboyant pastry chef and TV star had been interested in Stan last year when he'd heard of her talents, but circumstances had killed the opportunity. So what was he doing in Frog Ledge now?

He looked the same, that was for sure. Today he wore a silver suit with a neon pink tie. His brown hair was still feathered, but a tad longer than she remembered. He wore full makeup, including a shade of eyeliner that Stan immediately coveted—a nice slate green.

“I've been following your business on social media,” Allyn said, air-kissing the space next to her cheek, as if their last encounter hadn't been contentious. “You're even more fabulous. I want to make you a star. Or at least get you set up in a bakery. This wedding clinched it for me. I have a shop in mind for you in Boston. Right on Newbury Street. Imagine?” He closed his eyes as if indeed imagining, then opened them and focused on Stan again. “So, what do you say?”