Craig was right. But I understood Hannah, too. If Kenner had arrested Mars, I would have believed the best about him. “Maybe Tucker had a good reason for pinching the tiaras.” I didn’t know what that good reason might be, but I wanted to help Hannah.
Craig glowered at me. “Hannah, could I speak with you privately?”
“I’m not changing my mind. Go to New Jersey with your dad. When you’re done, come back here and we’ll talk.”
His comb-over flapping, he left the room and we heard his feet, heavy on the stairs as he raced up them.
Mom and Dad closed in on Hannah, consoling and praising her. And Humphrey boldly assured my father he would look out for Hannah.
Like he would be of any help.
The next half-hour passed in a flurry of suitcases being brought down. I carried a bag out to the car for my parents, and when I returned, Hannah and Craig were at it again in my foyer.
Hannah’s lower jaw quivered, but her hands were balled into tight fists. Humphrey flitted around them like a mosquito who thought he was a prizefighter waiting for his chance to get in a good shot.
Craig simply ignored him. “I don’t understand you anymore, Hannah. You wanted to be married and as soon as we were, you turned on me and acted like I was a stranger.”
“You are.”
“But why? I’ve done everything for you. Is it Tucker? Do you want to go back to him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then what? You loved me, I know you did. But being around your family . . .” Craig jabbed a finger in my direction. “They’re a bad influence. You get around your sister and start acting like a suspicious shrew, exactly like her.”
“Just a minute,” said Dad from the upstairs landing. “I won’t have you insulting us.”
Craig stepped closer to Hannah. “Please, come with me. Everything will be okay when it’s only the two of us again.”
Hannah backed away. “Nothing can ever be the same. Don’t you understand?”
Craig’s gaze drifted over to me.
“My feelings have nothing to do with Sophie. Craig, I saw you. I saw you walk out of the shed.”
“But I didn’t kill Stan. Can’t you grasp that? I swear I didn’t kill him. How can you think it was me now that the cops have Tucker in custody? You’re not making sense, Hannah.”
She opened the front door for him. In a patient tone, Hannah said, “I need to help Tucker. I’m sorry.”
Craig left in a huff, and the rest of us relaxed visibly once he was gone. Parading about proudly, as though he’d run Craig off, Humphrey proclaimed, “Good riddance. I shall make it my mission to see that he never troubles you again.”
To my unending surprise, Hannah held the door open for Humphrey, too. “Thanks for protecting me. See you around.” The poor guy stumbled out the door, and Hannah closed it before he could protest.
While Dad carried the last bag to the car and Jen hugged Mochie, Hermione, and Daisy, Mom beckoned me to the living room.
“Now listen, Sophie. It’s abundantly clear that your relationship with Mars is not over. We can see what’s going on, so there’s no use in denying it. Your father and I would welcome Mars back into the family. We’re both very fond of him, and you make such a lovely couple.”
“Mom, you’re misconstruing things.”
She waggled a finger under my nose. “A mother knows. Natasha has a better eye for makeup and sexy clothes. But you’re a pretty woman, Sophie. You just have to take the time to look alluring so you can steal Mars back from her.” She cupped my cheek in her hand. “Now promise me you’ll try.”
A brief
yes
would have made her happy. But it would be a lie. And though I didn’t think her hopes could be raised any higher, I didn’t want to mislead her. “Mom, it’s not going to happen.”
“I don’t believe it. Open up to the possibility, sweetie.”
Dad and Jen called her and they finally departed, prompting Hannah to say, “I thought they’d never leave.”
She walked into the kitchen, shouting, “Joel?”
Mars and Nina were relaxing at my kitchen table with coffee mugs, but Joel held car keys in his hand.
“Are you going to see Tucker?” asked Hannah.
“Yeah. Now that Dad’s gone, I guess that responsibility falls to me.” He gazed around at us. “Tucker has his faults, but he’s like family to me. And you always take care of family.”
Kevin grumbled, “I feel like a traitor. I came to be the best man and now I’m going to help the groom’s rival.”
Nina laughed. “Oh, please! It’s not like medieval times. You don’t have to avenge his honor.”
“Still, Craig is my friend.”
Joel asked, “Are you coming or not?”
“Let’s go.” Hannah was out the kitchen door in a flash with Joel right behind her. Kevin followed and Phoebe took the time to wave as she left.
Once the cavalry had departed, Mars yawned and said, “I’m starved. I can’t go home to eat. There’s no telling what Natasha put in the food. What’s on tap, Sophie?”
With a glance at the looming pile of dishes, I made a snap decision. “Chocolate mousse. Down at Bernie’s.”
After corralling the dogs in the kitchen, Nina, Mars, and I walked to Bernie’s pub and nabbed a table on the terrace. I ordered a pot of English Breakfast tea, and since I had more of that heavenly chocolate mousse in mind for dessert, I opted for a curried pineapple and turkey salad. Nina and Mars went for the Pub Club, a sandwich stacked with three kinds of meat and two kinds of cheese.
Leaning back in the chair, I tried to shake off the horrors of the weekend. Two people were dead and Hannah was married to the person who probably killed them. And instead of getting closer to Wolf, here I was with my ex-husband. Again.
Through the window, I could see Bernie rush into an agitated cluster of waitresses. He resolved the problem and was headed for his office when he spied us.
“Jolly good timing.” He pulled out the fourth chair and sat down. “What a day. I haven’t had a minute for lunch, and now half my female staff has gone goofy over Tucker. Was he really arrested?”
Mars nearly spewed the water he drank. “You mean all those pretty young things are in love with Tucker?”
“Hard to grasp, isn’t it? Makes me consider buying a red sports car.”
“Now, fellows,” said Nina, “don’t forget that Tucker still has those boyish good looks. It’s not just the car. Plus, Tucker has a way of making every girl feel special.”
“Now he can make the lady jail wardens feel special,” Bernie quipped.
Mars toyed with his fork. “I don’t think he’s under arrest yet. Just in for questioning.”
“The three young ladies who went to rescue him shall be sorely disappointed. I must say, though, while I can clearly envision Craig jabbing a bloke with a knife, I can’t see Tucker going through with it. He might joke about using it as a sword, or even have mock fights with it, but I can’t see him taking that final fatal step.”
“Maybe it was an accident,” I said. The waitress set my dish in front of me. Large chunks of turkey breast mingled with pineapple in a golden sauce. “Maybe he was playing around, as you suggest, and then he slipped, or Stan moved where he didn’t expect, and suddenly Stan was speared.”
Bernie asked the waitress to bring him a Laughing Dog and a Pub Club.
“Laughing Dog?” Mars plucked a strip of bacon from his sandwich and chewed it.
“English-style ale made here in the States.”
“Not that I mean to interrupt what would surely be a fascinating discussion about beer, but does anyone know anything about Kevin?” Nina needed both hands to pick up half her sandwich.
“He said he works out with Craig.”
“He told me he owns the gym where they work out.” Mars sipped his iced tea. “Did Hannah ever find her ring?”
“Not that I know of.”
Nina tried to mash her sandwich. “These are like a delicatessen inside bread. Umm.”
The waitress brought Bernie’s Pub Club and ale and set them in front of him. “Poor Tucker. All anyone can talk about is the murders.”
“What are people saying?” I asked.
She cast a quick glance at Bernie, but he was already busy eating. “The speculation is that the bride killed the groom’s ex-wife and the uncle found out, so she offed him, too.”
I was
not
glad I asked. I could only imagine what they were saying about the fact that we’d served dinner after the murder.
When the waitress moved to another table, Nina sat back in her chair. “Let’s look at this logically. We have Craig, who had more motives and opportunity than anyone else. Right?”
I had to agree. He remained my number one suspect.
“And then we have Tucker, who appears to interest the police. We know he had a motive to kill Stan, but what about Emily?”
I swallowed a savory bit of turkey. “He met her here—the night before she was killed.”
“So he might have known her? No wonder he’s a contender. Who else? We can add Kevin to the list, but I don’t think he knew Emily.”
“He was supposed to be Craig’s best man. Don’t you think his best man knew his ex-wife? Bernie was my best man, and he certainly knows,” Mars smiled at me, “Sophie.”
“Good point. We’ll keep Kevin on our list. What about Craig’s dad?”
“He’s a little small to strangle someone and hang her up on a pergola, don’t you think?” I scooped up the last morsel of tangy, sweet pineapple.
“He could have stabbed his brother, though.” Mars pointed at the half sandwich that remained on Nina’s plate. “Are you going to eat that?”
Nina protected it with both hands. “You betcha. I’m just resting.”
Bernie took a swig of his beer. “The first night, at the barbecue, I thought Wanda fancied Stan. But when we decorated the backyard, she catered to Robert. You don’t suppose Robert killed Stan over Natasha’s mother?”
Mars snorted into his iced tea. “Next suspect! How about darling Darby? She got out of Dodge very fast.”
I poured myself another cup of tea. “I think you’re on the wrong trail there. She was devastated by Emily’s death.”
“There you have it, then. A motley cast of three possibilities—Craig, Kevin, and Tucker,” Bernie said.
A little cry went up in the restaurant. “What now?” Excusing himself, Bernie hustled over to the waitresses making a scene. They dispersed and Bernie returned to our table. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of bad news. One of the waitresses just heard that Tucker’s fingerprints are on the handle of the knife. And they found Stan’s money clip and $5,000 in Tucker’s car.
THIRTY-FIVE
From “THE GOOD LIFE”:
Dear Sophie,
At the last wedding we attended, the bride gave glass Cinderella slippers as favors. You can imagine how much my husband cherished his. Our own daughter, in the feverish throes of wedding insanity, is wavering between conch shells and wax roses. My husband and I imagine these items going straight into trash cans. I’m pushing for an edible favor, but my daughter says I’m out of touch with the times.
—Out of Favor in Fayetteville
Dear Out of Favor,
Favors should be edible or usable. Perhaps the question each bride should ask herself when she considers favors is—would I buy this if I weren’t getting married?
Unconventional favors, like tree seedlings, can be charming, but a lot of them will end up in the trash. Edible favors are best. A guest shouldn’t have to wonder what to do with the favor.
—Sophie
No wonder Kenner had picked up Tucker for questioning. Poor Tucker. Fingerprints on the knife would be hard to refute. My fingerprints and Mom’s were to be expected, but Tucker didn’t have a good reason to have handled the knife. But killing a man to steal his money? That wasn’t Tucker’s style. Was it?
We stuck around for the sinful chocolate mousse, but the news about Tucker dampened our spirits and we soon walked home.
Daisy and Hermione pranced in joy when I opened the door. I would have let them run in the backyard, but the yellow police tape still hung in place.
Mars roughhoused with Daisy. “Let’s go for a walk.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to have Daisy last week?”
“You’re just noticing? Natasha didn’t want her.”
He clapped his hands over her ears. “Not in front of her.”
“I think she already knows how Natasha feels about her. Poor Daisy,” I cooed, “you have a wicked almost-stepmother.”
“Almost?” asked Nina.
“They’re not married. What does that make Natasha? A wicked paramour?”
Mars grabbed Daisy’s leash. “I’ll take the dogs down to Founder’s Park for a run.” He bent to speak to them. “We’ll stop by my house for some tennis balls first.”
He left with the dogs, and Nina stepped outside to go home. “I hope I can find someone to adopt Hermione. She’s a sweetheart, but she’s very energetic.”