Leann Sweeney - A Wedding To Die For

“Good thing, because he’s in credit card debt up to his eyeballs like everyone else in their early twenties. Graham Beadford had a steady income thanks to his brother, but what he didn’t spend at a bar in Dallas called For Pete’s Sake, he turned over to his daughters. They weren’t making ends meet up in Dallas.”

“Yeah, I found that out today. Could Graham have killed his brother hoping he’d inherit something from James?”

“It’s possible, but then who killed him?” she asked.

“It keeps coming back to Laura Montgomery. She had the best motive to do away with both of them—and I hate to even think about that. Megan deserves better.”

Fielder attended to a cuticle, her dark hair falling in front of her face. “In my experience, what we deserve and what we get don’t often match up,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “Sometimes.”

“For Pete’s sake, this sucks,” said Beefeater.

And that about summed it up.

I had worn black chinos and a zip-up sweater for the visitation, but when I arrived at the funeral home the place was hot enough to pop corn in the shuck. I had to unzip the sweater. The fuchsia T-shirt I wore underneath was a little glaring, but if I didn’t cool off I’d be sweating so badly no one would want to be within ten feet of me. The same greeter with those disturbing white gloves led me to the room where Graham’s shiny closed casket was draped with a blanket of mums.

Megan came over to me when I walked in. She wore a gray sweaterdress and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Gray didn’t suit her—it too closely resembled her skin tone. How much more could the poor kid take?

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong and in control. “Uncle Graham would have been proud of how many people showed up—even his friends from Dallas came.” She lowered her voice. “But most of the men smell like they shared a keg on the way down here.”

I smiled. “I think he would have liked that. Before it slips my mind, Kate said to tell you Courtney wasn’t well enough to attend tonight, but she might issue her a day pass for the funeral.”

“Did your sister say whether Courtney is accepting her treatment willingly?”

“I saw Courtney myself and I’d say yes.”

Travis had just joined us, and he put his arm around Megan and squeezed her to him. “See? Finally some good news.”

“I’m glad,” Megan said. “Especially for Roxanne. She was so exhausted after her night in jail, she fell asleep the minute Mother brought her home this afternoon. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her.”

I took in the room for the first time—this one a mirror image of where James Beadford’s casket had sat less than a week ago. Metal folding chairs were lined along the wall, and several old men sat together with clear plastic cups holding what appeared to be water— appeared being the key word.

Sylvia had come up with yet another black outfit, this one a pantsuit. She was talking with three men and a woman, none of whom I knew. Meanwhile, Holt spoke to a still fatigued-looking Roxanne. They stood in a corner next to a giant arrangement of white lilies and Holt had on his “I’m so sorry for your loss” face. She had adoring eyes fixed on him, and I considered warning her off before I left tonight. She didn’t need another tragic romantic encounter.

An elderly couple came into the room then, and Megan turned her attention to them.

Travis took my arm and whispered, “Can we talk a minute?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same question.”

While Megan walked the old man and woman over to the casket, Travis and I went into the hallway.

He rubbed at his mouth with a shaky hand. “You need to know something. Megan’s father and I did not argue about money the day of the wedding.”

So he’d finally decided to come clean. “I was pretty sure of that. Go on.”

“But I’m afraid Megan knows what we argued about. I think her father told her right after he talked to me. And I think it upset her. A lot.”

“You haven’t asked her?”

“I don’t want to ask her, Abby. Besides, that’s not the reason I needed to talk to you. I want you to stop looking for her birth mother. You can pretend you’re working on the case, but please, I’m begging you, just pretend.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Just trust me. You don’t want to find her,” he said.

“I’ve already found her,” I said. “And I know all about her.”

He closed his eyes. “Damn. So you know she was at the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Then you realize she’s not the person Megan hoped to find. This mother’s not her dream come true, Abby.”

“How did you find out?” I asked, wanting to add And why the hell didn’t you tell me?

He hung his head. “The day of the wedding, I saw Megan’s father talking to this woman after Sylvia sent me to find James. He and the woman were near the dock, and voices carry out there. I heard exactly what James was saying to her.

“And what was that?”

“He was saying Megan would have a jailbird for a mother and that he was going to the police first thing Monday morning. He kept asking her if it was fair to meet with Megan and then break her heart.”

“Then what happened?”

“They saw me. The woman ran off around the house and James followed me up to the deck. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I knew how badly Megan wanted to meet her mother and James had the power to make that happen.”

“So you two ended up arguing,” I said.

“He planned to tell Megan everything before her birth mother got the chance to tell her side. Said it was his right because... because he was her biological father, Abby. Then he said Graham would pay through the nose for bringing the woman to the wedding. He didn’t give a damn how all this would affect Megan on her wedding day. Then he told me to keep my mouth shut and stay out of his way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because... because... I wasn’t sure. I had to protect her.”

“You weren’t sure about what?” But then I understood. “I get it. You weren’t sure about Megan . You think she got so angry about the lies she’d been told all her life that she hit her father over the head and killed him?”

Travis blinked hard, his eyes reddening. “She’d never hurt him on purpose. But I know how upset she must have been.”

“Listen, Travis. If she killed her father, accident or not, why would she ask me to investigate the murders? That doesn’t make sense.”

He looked at his boots. “I thought maybe she had to act as people expected her to—and that would be to do everything in her power to find the killer. Maybe she believed you wouldn’t succeed.”

“Maybe, maybe, maybe. You’ve been thinking up the wrong tree, Travis. She didn’t kill him. And Fielder has proof she didn’t.”

His head snapped up and he stared at me, his eyes bright with hope. “Really?”

“Really. And there’s more I need to tell you.”

“Tell him what?” said Sylvia.

We both turned. She was standing in the hall just outside the entrance to the visitation room. How could she have snuck up on us with those shoes? They were ultra pointed with spike heels and had to have made noise. Yet neither of us had heard her.

“Tell him about my new job,” I said quickly. It was the first lie that came to mind.

But Sylvia seemed to be paying little attention to me. She was staring at Travis. “Are you feeling sick?”

He swallowed. “I’m fine. Really.”

“No, you’re not. You’re all flushed. Do you need some fresh air?”