Summer of Joy (37 page)
Something popped like a car backfiring or a firecracker on the Fourth of July. It came from the apartment over their heads.
Wes didn’t even look around as he started up the steps, two at a time. “That sounded like a pistol.”
David pushed past Wes at the top of the stairs and went into the apartment first. “Jocie!”
J
ocie heard the motorcycle coming, but so did Edwin Hammond. “You think your weird old friend is going to rush in and rescue you. But remember what I said about it being too late.”
"You don't want to do this." Jocie's mind was racingfive hundred miles a minute. He was right. Wes was still too far away, but there had to be something she could use, some way out. She stepped back and bumped into the box she’d stumbled against minutes earlier. She slipped her hand behind her back to feel down inside it. Blankets and pillows. Nothing hard she could use for a weapon.
“Why not?” His voice was calm, almost bored sounding, as if he wasn’t talking about anything more important than verb tenses. “Think of the headline. ‘Man Shoots Girl on Father’s Wedding Day.’ My ticket to fame.”
“It won’t be much fun being famous in prison.”
“No prison. You first. Then me. Two shots and we’re through. Finished. We’ll both be famous.” His voice changed, became dramatic as he flung out the hand not holding the gun. “The whole town will wail and mourn at your funeral. Such a tragedy. It would make a great story. The
New Yorker
would take it in a minute.” He sighed and went on. “But alas, time has run out. The rescuer draweth nigh.”
“Are you ready to die?” Jocie was amazed that she could still talk, still think. The Lord had to be helping her. She just had to trust in his power the way David in the Bible had trusted in the Lord’s power when he had faced Goliath. But at least he’d had a slingshot and lots of practice using it. What did she have? Blankets and the throw pillows Leigh had made just a couple of months ago to decorate her bed. Jocie had helped her stuff them with old stockings.
“Are you?” He looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“No.” She stared at him and tried desperately to think of something to keep him talking long enough for Wes to get there. The motorcycle was getting closer. “But if I do, I know the Lord is waiting to take me to heaven.”
“How childishly sweet. I’ll wager you don’t think he’s waiting for me.”
“He could be. He loves you the same as me.” Outside the motorcycle roared up into the yard. For a minute Jocie thought it might come on up the steps, but then the motor stopped.
“Well, what do you say we go see?” Mr. Hammond straightened out his arm and aimed the gun at her head.
Jocie gripped the edge of one of the throw pillows. She dropped to the floor and threw the pillow in the same motion. The pillow hit his arm just as the gun went off. The bullet shattered the mirror on Leigh’s dresser.
Jocie grabbed another pillow and threw it as hard as she could. He ducked to the side and came after her as she scrambled toward the bedroom door. Her hand touched a can of hair spray that had fallen out of the box she’d knocked over. She grabbed it and came up spraying toward Mr. Hammond’s eyes. He yelled and shot wildly up into the air.
Then both Wes and her father were there, grabbing Mr. Hammond, pushing him down on the bed, knocking the gun out of his hand. Jocie scooted over into the corner, pulled her knees up against her chest, and burst into tears.
David wanted to kill the man. With his bare hands. He had never felt such rage. It consumed him as he knocked Edwin Hammond down on the bed and wrapped his hands around his throat.
Hammond didn’t fight him. He just smiled up at David and said, “It’s her fault. She came here asking to die.”
Behind David, Wes made a growling sound. “Let me at him, David.”
David’s hands tightened on Hammond’s throat. The man kept smiling. His voice sounded funny as he said, “Go ahead. Kill me if you have the nerve.”
“Daddy, don’t.”
Jocie’s voice penetrated through the fog of David’s rage. He pulled in a slow breath and lifted his hands away from the man’s throat.
Hammond put his hand to his throat and gasped. Then the gasp turned to a laugh as he said, “Just as I thought. No nerve.”
David didn’t say anything as he jerked him to a sitting position. Wes yanked Hammond’s arms behind him as they stood him up. “What are we going to do with him?” Wes asked.
“Not what he wants,” David said. He looked around. Jocie was huddled in the corner watching him with big eyes, but he couldn’t turn loose of the man to go to her. Wes might not be strong enough to hold him by himself. “Get that sash off the curtains. We’ll tie him up.”
“Don’t you have a wedding to get to?” Hammond shifted on his feet until his face was right in front of David’s. The man’s glasses sat sideways on his head to add to the demented look in his eyes as he smiled and said, “I daresay we’re late already, aren’t we?”
“Not too late,” David said as he pushed him back.
“That’s what he said you’d be,” Jocie spoke up in a shaky voice. “Too late.”
“As you would have been if I hadn’t misfired. My father would be disappointed in me. He was always a crack shot.” Hammond’s laugh was like fingernails raking against a chalkboard.
“Keep your mouth shut or we’ll find a gag for you,” Wes said as he started tying up the man’s hands.
“He tied Mrs. Simpson up,” Jocie said. “Downstairs.”
“Attacking old ladies and little girls. What a man.” Wes jerked the sash tight around Hammond’s hands.
Hammond ignored Wes as he kept talking to David. “It rather spoils the wedding, doesn’t it? Leaving the bride at the altar.”
David stopped listening to the man. Hammond was just a problem to get out of the way now so he could go comfort Jocie. He saw the open closet door. Leigh had already packed up all the stuff in it. “Put him in there until we can get hold of the chief,” David told Wes.
Hammond’s smile drained away as he looked at the closet and started struggling to get away from Wes and David. “You can’t do that. I don’t like dark places.”
“That’s too bad,” Wes said as they pushed the man into the closet and shoved the dresser over in front of the door. The man started pounding his body against the door and screaming. Wes looked at David and said, “That might not hold him. We’d better move the bed over here too.”
After they scooted the heavy oak bed across the floor up against the dresser, David picked Jocie up like a baby and carried her out of the bedroom. Hammond was still screaming. Jocie wrapped her arms around David’s neck and held on. She was crying again.
“Are you okay, honey? Did he hurt you?” David pulled back from her a little to look into her face.
“I’m okay, but I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t aim to ruin your wedding day.”
“I’m not worried a bit about that. I’m just thankful. Very thankful.” David held her close against him and kissed her hair.
“Amen to that,” Wes said as he tried to hug Jocie too. “But from now on we aren’t letting you out of our sight. Ever. Not even to go to the little girls’ room.” When Jocie turned her head to look at Wes, he swiped away some of her tears with his tie.
Jocie giggled through her tears. “You’re ruining your tie.”
“Folks never wear ties on Jupiter anyhow. If they want to dress up special, they just paste a blue spot on their foreheads.”
“Yeah, but remember you’ve been earthed,” Jocie said.
“Don’t I know it. That’s how come I’m wearing this blasted thing.” Wes smiled and put his hand on her head.
Jocie looked back up at David. “I prayed, Daddy, and the Lord helped me find a way out. I’m glad. I didn’t want to die on your wedding day.”
David hugged her against him again. He didn’t want to ever turn her loose.
“Dad, I can’t breathe.”
He reluctantly loosened his hold on her. She pushed away from him. “I really am okay, Dad. Honest. Can we go back and have the wedding? Please. After we untie poor Mrs. Simpson.”
“Right. Mrs. Simpson.”
As soon as David took the gag out of Mrs. Simpson’s mouth, she started talking nonstop. “What happened to that man? Where is he? Is that him making all that racket upstairs?” Her gray hair was standing out in every direction and her eyes were so wide open they looked about ready to pop out. Her wrists and ankles were red and swollen where the cord Hammond had used to tie her to one of her kitchen chairs had cut into her skin.
“I’ll call the ambulance to take you to the hospital,” David said. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
“Have I ever, but you can’t call anybody. Not even the police. That man cut the wires. I saw him.”
“Wes can go next door and call,” David said.
“I think not. I’m not about to go off to any hospital right now. I’ve got a wedding to go to.” She frowned at him as if she’d just realized who he was. “What on earth are you doing here instead of being at the church anyway?”
“We couldn’t get married without Jocie.” David reached over to touch Jocie who was standing as close to Wes as she could get.
“What has Jocie got to do with any of this?” Mrs. Simpson’s frown got deeper as she peered over at Jocie.
“It’s sort of a long story,” Jocie said.
“Then save it. I’ll read about it in the paper next week. Right now we have a wedding to get to.” She looked back at David. “Don’t we?”
“That we do,” David said.
Mrs. Simpson stopped frowning. “Good. Then I can still be there to see the bride come down the aisle, although heaven knows all the good seats will be taken, and of course, I couldn’t possibly drive myself to the church. Not after what I’ve been through.” She poked her finger against David’s chest. “So you’ll have to wait until I get ready. Then you can drive me.”
“Yes, ma’am. One thing sure, they won’t start without me.”
Above their heads, Edwin Hammond was still banging around in the closet. Mrs. Simpson’s frown came back. “Pipe down up there,” she shouted as she grabbed her broomstick and banged it against the ceiling. “For mercy’s sake, and I thought Leigh was noisy. I’ll have to apologize to that girl.”
I
t was already more than a half hour past the time the wedding was supposed to start when Wes and Jocie got back to the church. Her father was still waiting for Mrs. Simpson to get ready.
"Oh my heavenly days," Zella said when Wes ushered Jocie through the back door. “Where on earth have you been, Jocelyn?”
“Not one word,” Wes warned Zella. “Not one. She’s here now and we’re going to wait until she gets ready.”
Zella stared at him a moment before she said, “And dare I ask where David is?”
“He’ll be here,” Wes said.
“Well, that’s comforting,” Zella said. “Soon, I hope.”
“As soon as he can,” Wes said.
“I’m sorry, Zella,” Jocie said. “I really didn’t aim to mess things up. And I hope you won’t be too upset about Leigh not wearing the garter you bought her for the blue part. I had it, but I dropped it and then forgot to pick it up before we got out of there.”
“The garter? My stars, that’s not what this is all about, is it?”
“That’s what I went after, but then things happened,” Jocie said.
“Don’t they always when you’re around. But I don’t have time to hear it now. Go wash your face and get dressed. I’ll have the judge tell everybody to just sit tight. Again. I suppose Myra Hearndon can sing another song.” Zella turned to look at Wes with narrowed eyes. “And what happened to your tie, Wesley? Go let that sweet grandson of yours try to straighten it up so you’ll be ready whenever David does finally get here. You’re sure he’s on the way?”
“He’ll be here. But meantime I need you to go get Chief Simmons,” Wes said.
Zella’s face went pale. “You can’t ask the police chief to come out right now. The whole church is in a buzz already about what could be holding things up. They see Randy leave, they’ll panic and bolt for the doors.” Zella shook her head. “We can’t have that, Wesley. We just can’t. I don’t care what’s happened.”
“Could be you’re right on this one, Zell. Guess we’ll just have to wait till after the blessed event.”
Jocie didn’t have ribbons in her hair when she walked down the aisle carrying her bouquet of sunflowers and daisies, but she celebrated each step. She had never felt so alive or so loved. When Wes had escorted her down to the room where Leigh was waiting, Leigh had come out in the hall risking being seen in her wedding dress to grab Jocie and pull her close before they stepped back into the room.
Jocie had told Leigh and Tabitha what had happened as briefly as possible. “Mr. Hammond was in your apartment. He had a gun. He shot at me but missed. Dad and Wes got there. They locked him in your closet. Dad’s okay. But I forgot the garter. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, my dear child,” Leigh had said as she hugged Jocie as tightly as Jocie’s dad had earlier. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You want us to postpone the wedding?”
“No way. I want you to be my mom. The sooner the better. Me and Tabitha will be your something blue in our dresses.”
“Sounds like my lucky day or better yet my most blessed day,” Leigh had said.
Now Leigh and Jocie’s dad were standing together in front of the packed church promising to love one another forever. “Till death do us part.”