Weddings Can Be Murder (16 page)

She got quiet, glad he understood. “I’d started questioning my feelings earlier, then Les picked up on my doubt. She’s always been good at that. Seeing things in me. But last night…” She didn’t know why she felt the need to confess, but she did. “When I was with Carl Hades. I felt pizzazz with him.”

A hush fell on them. “What are you saying, Katie?”

“Nothing happened,” she clarified. “But I felt things. And now I feel terrible.” She shut up, and the silence thickened again.

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” he finally said. “We’re human.”

“We?” The word meant something. “It happened to you, too?”

His pause answered before he did. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. And like with you, nothing really happened.”

“But you wanted it to?” she asked, feeling her guilt ease.

“Yeah,” he confessed.

“Some girl at your office?” she asked, not really knowing why, but wanting to know.

“No.”

“Someone I know?”

“Is it important?” he asked, his tone edgy.

“No, but
I
told
you
.” She remembered his neighbor. The woman was always flirting with Joe. “Oh, gawd! It’s—”

“Katie, I swear. Les didn’t have a thing to do with it.”

Carl continued to talk to Ben while staring at the florist’s shop. “Did you see Red?”

“Ahh, now there’s an interesting topic,” Ben answered.

“Why?” Carl started his car and pulled into traffic.

“She literally threw herself at me.”

Carl’s grip on the phone tightened. “She did not.”

“I haven’t held a woman, other than Tami, that close in years. She’s a nice package.”

“Don’t shit me. She’s not that kind of girl,” Carl snarled.

“Who’s shitting you? She was all over me,” Ben said.

“You’re lying,” Carl accused. “She’s engaged. And even if she wasn’t, she’s not the type to—”

Ben’s laughter spilled out of the phone. “I knew it. You fell for her. My no-good sorry-ass brother finally fell for a good girl. That’s why you won’t go to see her, isn’t it? You’re scared shitless, aren’t you?”

“You’re talking out your ass.” He pulled out onto the street, ready to hang up when Ben continued.

“Truth is—Red
did
throw herself at me. But only because she thought I was you.”

His brother obviously wasn’t finished having fun. “Right.”

“Seriously. She threw herself in my arms. When she realized her mistake, she got this nice shade of red. About the same color as her hair. You always had a thing for redheads. Nevertheless, I think she’s missing your ass something terribly.”

Just like that, Carl was hit with an aching need to see Katie Ray. And damn it, he missed her, too.

“You should go see her, Carl. No kidding,” Ben said.

Carl inhaled. “Maybe I will.”
Maybe?

It was Les? Katie couldn’t believe…“I was thinking it
was your neighbor.”

“Nothing happened,” Joe said with urgency in his tone. “We met briefly at the bar. Then I came here. I thought it was you in the shower.”

Katie digested what he said and remembered…“No! You didn’t climb naked into the shower with her, did you?”

“She beat the shit out of me. Called 911.”

Part of her wanted to laugh. Part of her still couldn’t believe it. More silence crawled into the closet while she absorbed the facts. Why hadn’t Les told her?

“Nothing happened.” His voice vibrated with frustration.

“I believe you.” Katie rested her head on her knees and found herself reaching for one of the paintings.

“How do we do this?” he finally spoke.

“Do what?” It wasn’t like Les to keep things from her.

“Call off the wedding. Maybe your wedding planner could help…Oh. Never mind.”

“Don’t worry; I forget every few minutes, too.” She paused. “I guess we need to get our wedding RSVPs and call everyone.”

“This sucks,” he mumbled.

“Majorly,” she said. “We have the gifts to return, too.”

“I’m really sorry, Katie.”

She knew he meant it. Joe wouldn’t hurt anyone intentionally. And then the thought of never again seeing sweet, handsome, good Joe brought a pain to her chest.

“Joe, this sounds totally cliché, but do you think we could remain friends?”

“I’d like that.” The dark silence no longer felt so wrong.

Katie traced her fingers again over one of the paintings and wondered which it was. The ocean scene? The flowers?

“Ah, shit,” he said. “I just realized I gotta tell my mom.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Katie liked Joe’s mom. Yeah, she was a tad domineering with Joe, but compared to her own parents, Joe’s mom didn’t really seem so bad.

“Nah, I’ll handle it. Do you think tomorrow night is soon enough to start calling people?”

“Yes. At lunch tomorrow I’ll contact everyone I hired to help with the wedding.” Of course, Katie didn’t know whom she’d hired, since Tabitha had changed things.

“I know this is difficult,” Joe said.

“On both of us.” Her thoughts shot back to how embarrassed her parents would have been if they’d been alive. Rays didn’t back out of things at the last minute.

“We’ll live through this,” Joe said, as if reading her mind.

Live through it
. Live? The image of Tabitha falling to the carpet hit again. Katie’s breath hitched. She dropped her head on her knees. “I sure as heck hope so.”

Joe must have read her mind, because he spoke all too fast. “Why don’t you come stay at my place?”

Katie let the thought run around her head. Then she remembered Ben Hades saying,
We don’t have a reason to
believe you are in immediate danger
. Logic chased away the beginning spasms of fear.

Plus, staying with Joe would be awkward to the max.

“Les is here. And we might go stay at a hotel. We’ll be fine,” she said.

Now, all she had to do was believe it.

Carl had run his three miles, showered, and had just finished shaving when he heard his dad.

“Son?”

He frowned at his image in the mirror. He really needed to get his key back. “In here.”

His dad appeared at the door of the bathroom. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Splashing on aftershave, he grimaced when the liquid hit the scratches. He eyed the marks. Red had got him good, not that he blamed her.

“You made coffee?” his dad asked as he headed down the hall.

“Yup.” Wearing only boxers, Carl went to stand in front of the open closet. What did one wear to an art gallery?

A pair of khaki pants caught his eye. He tossed them on the bed. His light blue oxford shirt would work. Then he spotted another shirt tucked in the back. Way back. The shirt Tami had given him last year for Christmas. She’d sworn it would look great on him.
Oh, what the hell
.

Five minutes later, he stepped out of his bedroom, clean, combed, and ready. His dad sat at the kitchen table, his nose in the business section of the
Houston Chronicle
.

The newspaper lowered. “Why are you fancied up?”

“Paying a visit to the suspects in the Jones case.”

“And you gotta dress up to do that?”

“I thought I’d stop by the gallery where Red works.” Carl had told himself it meant nothing. Common courtesy.

His dad continued to stare. “Since when do you fancy pink?”

“It’s light red.” Carl grabbed his cup and went to fill it.

“Which is another way of saying pink.”

“Tami gave it to me.” Moving back to the table, Carl settled into a chair. “Besides, women aren’t into macho anymore.” He had that from a good source. A source that had kept him awake half the night fighting his own stiffy while his dog got lucky. That was just plain wrong.

“What are women into now?”

“Metro men.” Carl picked up the sports section.

“A man who takes the bus?”

“No. It’s a man who’s not afraid to wear…light red.”

His dad laughed. “You gonna take her out to lunch?”

“No. I’m just popping in to check on her.”

“Take her some flowers,” his old man said.

Carl snapped open the sports section and ducked behind it. “Don’t make something out of this. I’m just being courteous.”

“Right,” his dad mumbled and then, “Women like flowers.”

Carl ignored his dad. Besides, he already had a gift for Red.

The tap of claws echoed around the table. Precious came to greet Carl’s dad, gave Carl’s feet a bump with his nose, then went back to Baby. So, his poodle preferred chasing tail to his feet? Carl couldn’t say he blamed the dog, but being second fiddle didn’t feel good.
Second fiddle
. He remembered seeing Red with her fiancé.

His dad eyed the dogs. “Where’s those doggy panties I got?”

“Precious ripped them off of her. I tried keeping them in separate rooms. They both howled nonstop for hours.”

“Love is the air. Can’t fight it.”

“And I’m going to let you tell that to Ms. Jones’s next of kin when they come to pick her up.” Carl raised the paper, then lowered it. “Which reminds me. Do you know when that will be? Has someone been contacted?”

His dad pulled the paper up, shielding himself from Carl’s view.

Carl pushed the paper down. “What gives, Dad?”

“Detective James told Tabitha’s cousin about the dog and she said she couldn’t take her.”

Carl shot the white puffball of a dog a look. “She
has
to take her.”

“She said to give it to a shelter.”

Carl gritted his teeth. “Fine. You take her to a shelter.”

“Me?” Buck asked.

“You brought her here. You handle it.”

Baby let out a pathetic bark as if she understood. “I can’t keep you,” Carl muttered, but refused to look at her.

“She’s not big,” his dad said. “And Precious likes her.”

Carl cut his dad a cold stare. “
You
are taking her to the shelter. I mean it, when I get back, this dog will not be here.” He eyed his watch. His appointment with Mel Grimes, the photographer, was at ten.

“Shouldn’t one of us be following around Mr. Johnson?”

Shit
. He’d forgotten all about the Johnson case. And Mondays were when Johnson’s wife suspected him of meeting with some other woman. “Yeah. Follow Mr. Johnson.” Carl knew he’d be sorry for bringing his father into another case, but he didn’t see what choice he had. “Take my cameras. But be careful.”

“I’m always careful.” His dad reached down to pet Baby.

“And you
still
have to handle the dog situation,” Carl said.

“Okay, but you know they’ll put her down, don’t you?”

“She’s a pedigree,” Carl snapped. “Someone will want her.”

“Just like you do, huh?”

“Don’t put this on me. I told you I didn’t want that dog.”

“Yeah, yeah!” His old man brought the newspaper back up. “What time should I start trailing Mr. Johnson?”

“The wife said he doesn’t leave the house until noon.”

For the next ten minutes they drank coffee and read the morning news in silence. “Son?” His dad set the paper down.

“Yeah?” Carl thumbed through the other sections, looking for the comics.

“I…I, uh, needed to talk to you about something.”

“I’m not keeping the dog, Dad.”

“It’s not that.” His tone sent up warning flags. Carl recalled his dad had gone in for a physical last week and was supposed to be getting his results back. Carl’s gut tightened.

“Test results?”

“Test results?” his father repeated. “Oh, you mean from the doctor. Hell, no. I got those back Friday. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

Relief came instantly. As much as his old man drove Carl crazy, he knew losing him would cost him more than he wanted to admit. “Good.” He grinned. “So, what’s up?”

His dad palmed his coffee cup—a sure sign of nervousness. “I asked Jessie to marry me last weekend.”

Carl leaned back in his chair. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m tired of being run out of her bed every night. She doesn’t believe in living with a man, and I respect that.”

“You’re sixty-six. You shouldn’t be in her bed every night.”

“You think my wingwanger don’t work?”

“Dad, I don’t give a rat’s ass if your pecker works or not. I’m talking about…” Hell, what was he talking about? “I just think it’s late in the game to be…to get yourself hitched to some woman.”

“It’s not some woman. It’s Jessie. I love her.”

“Then love her. But why screw it up by getting married?”

“Because when people love each other, they get married.”

“What about Mom?” The moment the words stepped off his lips, Carl regretted them.

“She’s been dead sixteen years,” his dad said.

Carl inhaled. “Oh, screw it. I don’t know why we’re talking about this. You’re not going to listen to me.” But the idea felt wrong. “Marry Jessie. Adopt a kid with her. It’s not up to me.” He shot up from his chair.

“I’d really like your blessing.”

Carl stopped. “Blessing? Have you told Ben about this?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t he tell you that you were an idiot?”

Buck folded his hands together on top of the paper. “Actually, Ben and Tami are thrilled for me.”

“Well, that’s great,” Carl said. “Do what you want. You don’t need my damn blessing.” He grabbed his coat and the package for Red and left.

Joe had taken the day off from work, something he hadn’t done in ages. But since he wasn’t going on a honeymoon, he could afford some downtime. Not that telling his mom about the wedding cancellation fell into the category of downtime.

Much as Joe hated admitting it, last week’s visit to his mom’s cardiologist confirmed his worst fears. She was a conniving manipulator who didn’t have anything that closely resembled a heart condition. All her medical woes were crap, a ploy to pull at his sympathy strings—to encourage him to rush the wedding. She’d been pushing for him to marry for years.

Not that he blamed her for the wedding fiasco. He’d proposed to Katie before his mom had even known about it. But the fact that she’d lied to him about her health ticked him off.

Of course, not enough for him to confront her about it. Face it, he was thirty-four years old and afraid of his mommy. But hey, Mildred Lyon was no ordinary woman. With one cut from her eyes, she made him feel thirteen and guilty of something.

Katie had assured him that his mom was just lonely. Katie also insisted his devotion to her was a sign of a caring son. But letting his mother get away with lying was too much. Yes. So what was he going to do about it?

Courage wavering, he walked into her apartment. “Mom?”

She didn’t answer. Was probably next door. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a soda. While debating if he wanted a sandwich, he heard a noise from the bedroom.

“Mom?” Imagining her fallen out on the floor, he went running into the bedroom. And…Well, fuck! He swung around. But, too late. The image was tattooed onto his memory. Not those temporary tattoos, either. Permanent.

“Joe!” his mom screamed.

He heard a loud thump against the wall and prayed it had been her bedmate and not her. And it would have been a hell of a lot better if the bedmate had been a real person. But to see his mom, naked, enjoying a battery-operated boyfriend—well, that basically was just too damn much.

He stood in the hall, trying to decide what to do. His mom scrambling around behind him told him that she hadn’t fallen to her death. He raked ten fingers through his hair. “Shit.”

“Joey. I…I…You should have never seen that.”

“For once, we’re in total agreement on something.” Right then, Joe called the games over. No more placating his mom.

He swung around, relieved to find her in a robe. “I came by to tell you that the wedding has been called off.”

His mom pressed a hand to her heart. “But—”

“
Don’t
say anything.” He pointed at the bed. “Any
woman who can do what I saw isn’t suffering from a weak heart.”

She blushed, but still had the audacity to send him her don’t-talk-to-me-that-way look. But her look held zero power, not after seeing…Oh, damn, he wished he could forget.

“I love you, Mom. I do. And I’ll be here for you, but what I saw proves that you need to get your
own
life. Maybe even a
real
boyfriend. And you need to stop interfering with, meddling in, and trying to run my life.”

Joe stepped out, but not before snatching the phone book from under the coffee table. Something about standing up to his mom empowered him, and while he might be an idiot, there was one other woman he wanted to see.

In his car, he looked under
G
to see how many Graysons were listed in North Piper. Les wouldn’t want to see him, but damn it, there were some things that just needed to be said.