Shakespeare's Christmas Part 5

I watched the woman closely while the florist was giving the a.s.sembled group some directions. It didn't take long to conclude that Dill's mother was a few bricks short of a load. She was inappropriately dressed (a short-sleeved floral housedress with a hole in it, high heels with rhinestone buckles), which was in itself no clear signal of mental derangement, but when you added the ensemble to her out-of-the-ballpark questions ("Do I have to walk down the aisle too?") and her constant hand and eye movement, the sum total was significant.

Well. So Dill's family had a skeleton, too.

Notch one up for my family. At least I could pretty much be relied on to do the right thing, if I actually made an appearance. Dill's mom was definitely a loose cannon.

Varena was handling Mrs. Kingery with amazing tact and kindness. So were my parents. I felt a proprietary swell of pride at my folks' goodness and had to resume my conversation with Berry Duff to cover the rush of emotion.

After even more last-minute toing and froing, the rehearsal began. Patsy Green, the florist, gathered us together and gave us our marching orders. We took our positions to walk through the ceremonial paces.

Getting the cues straight from Lou O'Shea on the organ, an usher escorted Mrs. Kingery to her place at the front of the church. Then my mother was guided to her front pew on the other side.

While I cl.u.s.tered with the other bridesmaids at the back of the church, Jess O'Shea came in from the hall that ran in front of his office to the church sanctuary. He went to the top of the steps in front of the altar and stood there smiling. Dill entered the sanctuary from the same door, accompanied by Berry, who grinned at me. Then I walked down the aisle, listening with one ear to the florist's adjuration to walk slowly and smoothly.

I always walk smoothly.

She reminded me to smile.

Jay Kingery came in from the hall, and Janna started down the aisle. Then the groomsman, cousin Matthew, took his place, and Tootsie did her long walk. I set off on cue, with Patsy Green hissing "Smile!" at my back.

Then the piece de resistance. Varena came down the aisle on my father's arm, and she looked flushed and happy. So did Dad. Dill was beaming like a fool at his bride. Berry raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt my mouth twitch in response.

"That went well!" Patsy Green called from the back of the church. She began walking toward us, and we all turned to listen to her comments. I wasn't at all surprised it had fallen into place, since almost everyone in the party was old enough to have played a role in a score of weddings and been a major partic.i.p.ant in a daunting number.

My attention drifted, and I began looking around the church, the one I'd attended every Sunday as a child. The walls always seemed newly painted a brilliant white, and the carpet was always replaced with same deep green as the cushions on the pews. The high ceiling always made me think up up-s.p.a.ce, infinity, the omnipotent unknown.

I heard a little cough and brought my gaze down from the infinite to stare into the pews. Someone was in the shadows at the back of the church. My heart started pounding in an uncomfortable way. Before I had formed a thought, I began to walk down the steps and the long strip of green carpet. I didn't even feel my feet moving.

He stood up and moved to the door.

At the moment I reached him, he opened the door for me, and we stepped out into the cold night. In one move, he pulled me to him and kissed me.

"Jack," I said when I could breathe, "Jack."

My hands went under his suit coat to touch his back through his striped shirt.

He kissed me again. His hands tightened on me, pressed me harder against his body.

"Glad to see me," I observed after a while. My breathing was not even.

"Yeah," he said hoa.r.s.ely.

I pulled away a little to look at him. "You're wearing a tie."

"I knew you'd be dressed up. I had to look as nice as you."

"You a psychic detective?"

"Just a d.a.m.n good one."

"Umhum. What are you doing in Bartley?"

"You don't think I'm here just to see you?"

"No."

"You're almost wrong."

"Almost?" I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.

"Yes, ma'am. Last week, I was clearing off my desk so I could come down here to lend you some moral support-or maybe morale support-when I got a call from an old friend of mine."

"And?"

"Can I tell you later? Say, at my motel room?"

"That was was your car I saw! How long have you been here?" For a moment I wondered if Jack had revealed his presence just because he'd figured I'd identify his car sooner or later, in a town the size of Bartley. your car I saw! How long have you been here?" For a moment I wondered if Jack had revealed his presence just because he'd figured I'd identify his car sooner or later, in a town the size of Bartley.

"Since yesterday. Later? G.o.d, you look good," he said, and his mouth traveled down my neck. His fingers pulled the scarf away from my neck. Despite the cold, I began to have that warmth that meant I was just as glad to see him, especially after the horrors of the day.

"OK, I'll come by to hear your story, but it'll have to be after the rehearsal dinner," I said firmly. I gasped a second later. "No, Jack. This is my sister's wedding. This is a have-to."

"I admire a woman who sticks to her principles." His voice was low and rough.

"Will you come in and meet my family?"

"That's why I'm wearing the suit."

I looked up at him with some suspicion. Jack is a little older than I am and four inches taller. In the security lights of the church parking lot, I could see that he had his black hair brushed back into a neat ponytail, as usual. He has a beautiful thin, prominent nose, and his lips are thin and sculpted. Jack used to be a Memphis policeman, until he left the force after his involvement in an unsavory and b.l.o.o.d.y scandal.

He's got lips, he knows how to use 'em, I thought, almost intoxicated by his presence. Only Jack could get me in the mood to paraphrase an old ZZ Top song.

"Let's go do the right thing, before I try something here in the parking lot," he suggested.

I stared at him and turned to walk back in the church. Somehow, I expected him to vanish between the door and the altar, but he followed me in and down the aisle, flanking me when we reached the cl.u.s.tered wedding party. Naturally enough, they were all staring our way. I could feel my face harden. I hate explaining myself.

And Jack stepped up beside me, put his arm around me, and said, "You must be Lily's mother! I'm Jack Leeds, Lily's ..."

I waited with some interest while Jack, normally a smooth talker, floundered at the end of the sentence.

"Boyfriend," he finished, with a certain inaccuracy.

"Frieda Bard," my mother said, looking a little stunned. "This is my husband, Gerald."

"Mr. Bard," Jack said respectfully, "glad to meet you."

My father pumped Jack's hand, beaming like someone who's just found Ed McMahon and a camera crew on his doorstep. Even the ponytail and the scar on Jack's right cheek didn't diminish my father's smile. Jack's suit was expensive, a very muted brown plaid that brought out the color of his hazel eyes. His shoes were polished. He looked prosperous, healthy, clean shaven, and I looked happy. That was enough for my dad, at least for the moment.

"And you must be Varena." Jack turned to my sister.

When would everyone stop looking like deer caught in headlights? You'd think I was a d.a.m.n leper, they were so amazed I had a man. Jack actually kissed Varena, a quick light one on the forehead. "Kiss the bride for luck," he said, with that sudden, brilliant smile that was so winning.

Dill recovered quickest.

"I'm about to join the family," he told Jack. "I'm Dill Kingery."

"Pleased to meet you." The shake again.

And it went on from there, with me not saying a word. Jack glad-handed the men and gave the women a flash of clean, earnest s.e.xuality. Even off-kilter Mrs. Kingery beamed at him in a dazed way. "You're trouble on the hoof, and I know it," she said firmly.

Everyone froze in horror, but Jack laughed with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt. The moment pa.s.sed, and I saw Dill close his eyes in relief.

"I'll take off, since you're in the middle of your special occasion," Jack told the group generally, with no hint of a hint in his voice. "I just wanted to meet Lily's folks."

"Please," Dill said instantly, "we'd really enjoy your joining us for the rehearsal dinner."

Jack did the polite thing and declined, mentioning the important family occasion and the fact that he had arrived unannounced.

Dill repeated his invitation. Social Ping-Pong.

When Varena joined in, Jack allowed himself to be persuaded.

He retired to sit at the back of the church. My eyes followed him every inch of the way.

We walked through the ceremony again. I went through my paces on autopilot. Patsy Green reminded me again to smile. This time she sounded a little sharper.

I was thinking hard during the rest of the rehearsal, but I couldn't come to any conclusion. Could it possibly be true that Jack was here for me? He had admitted he had another reason, but he'd said he was coming here anyway. If that was true ...

But it was too painful to believe.

Jack had already been here when Dr. LeMay and Binnie Armstrong were done to death. So his arrival couldn't be connected with the double murder.

"Looks like I'm too late on the scene," Berry said to me in a pleasant way after Patsy Green and the O'Sheas agreed we had the procedure down pat. We were just outside the church doors.

"That's so flattering of you," I said with a genuine smile. For once, I had said the right thing. He smiled back at me.

"Lily!" Jack called. He was holding open the pa.s.senger door of his car. I couldn't imagine why.

"Excuse me," I told Berry and strolled over. "Since when," I muttered, conscious of my voice carrying in the cold clear air, "have you found it necessary to hold doors for me?"

Jack looked wounded. "Darlin', I'm your slave." He seemed to be imitating Berry's Delta accent.

"Don't be an a.s.s," I whispered. "Seeing you is so good. Don't ruin it."

He stared down at me as I swung my legs into his car. The taut muscles around his mouth relaxed. "All right," he said and shut the door.

We backed up to follow the other cars out of the parking lot.

"You found the doctor today," he said.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I brought my police scanner. Are you OK?"

"Yes."

"How much do you know about Dill Kingery?" he asked.

I felt as though he'd punched me in the stomach. I had to sit silent to gather breath, my panic was so complete and sudden. "Is something wrong with him?" I asked finally, my voice coming out not so much angry as scared. Varena's face smiling up at Dill came into my mind, the long engagement, the relationship Varena had worked so hard to build up with Dill's daughter, Varena's cheerful acceptance of crazy Mrs. Kingery...

"Probably nothing. Just tell me."

"He's a pharmacist. He's a widower. He's a father. He pays his bills on time. His mother is crazy."

"That's the old biddy who said I was trouble?"

"Yes." She was right.

"The first wife's been dead how long?"

"Six or seven years. Anna doesn't remember her."

"And Jess O'Shea? The preacher?"

I looked over at Jack as we pa.s.sed a streetlight. His expression was tense, almost angry. That made two of us. "I don't know anything about him. I've met his wife and little girl. They have a boy, too."

"He coming to the rehearsal dinner?"

"The minister usually does. Yes, I heard them say they'd gotten a sitter."

I wanted to hit Jack, a not uncommon situation.

We pulled into Sarah May's Restaurant parking lot. Jack parked a little away from the other cars.

"I can't believe you've upset me this much in five minutes," I said, hearing my own voice coming out distant and cold. And shaking.

He stared through the windshield at the restaurant windows. They were edged with flickering Christmas lights. The glow flashed across his face. d.a.m.n d.a.m.n blinking lights. After what felt like a very long time, Jack turned to me. He took my left hand with his right. blinking lights. After what felt like a very long time, Jack turned to me. He took my left hand with his right.

"Lily, when I explain what I'm working on, you'll forgive me," he said, with a kind of painful sincerity I was forced to respect. He sat holding my hand, making no move to open his door, waiting for me to extend him ... trust? Advance absolution? I felt as if he'd opened a cavity in my chest and turned a spotlight on it.

I nodded sharply, opened my door, and got out. We met in front of the car. He took my hand again, and we went into Sarah May's.

Sarah Cawthorne, half of the Sarah May of the name, showed us to the private room that Dill had reserved for the party. Of course, all of us but Jack and Mrs. Kingery had been in it many times, since it was one of two places in Bartley you could dine out privately. I saw that it had been recently carpeted and wallpapered in the apparently perpetually popular hunter green and burgundy, and the artificial Christmas tree in the corner had been decorated with burgundy and off-white lace and matching ribbons. This tree was lit, too, of course, draped with the small clear lights, and thank G.o.d they didn't blink.

The tables had Christmas centerpieces in the same colors, and the place mats were cloth and so were the napkins. (This was very sw.a.n.k for Bartley.) The U-shaped banquet arrangement hadn't changed, though, and as we all drifted to our seats I realized that Jack was maneuvering us toward the O'Sheas. He was steering me un.o.btrusively with his hand on my back, and I was reminded of a puppet sitting on a ventriloquist's knee, the controlling hand hidden in a hole in the puppet's back. Jack caught my look, and his hand dropped away.

Dill was already standing behind a chair with my sister on one side and his mother on the other, so only Jess O'Shea was available as a target.

Jack managed to slot us between the O'Sheas. I was between the two men, and to Jack's right was Lou. Across the table from us was Patsy Green, squired by one of the ushers, a banker who played golf with Dill, I remembered.