CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

But I did sleep. The exhaustion enveloped me, and I fell asleep lying across the bottom of the bed. Zoey slept, too, and we opened our eyes at the same time, startled into wakefulness by a sound outside.

The day was beautiful, the sun shining through scattered, high clouds. The trees and grass on the great lawn glowed with vibrant greens. The remaining damp would be burned off by the time the guests arrived. If the guests were allowed to come. If Zoey wanted to go on with it.

She trailed me into the main room of the apartment, and we stood for a moment, looking out at the navy-blue ocean, flat as a dinner plate. The perfect day for a wedding. The Whaler was tied up at the dock, looking as seaworthy as ever.

"What time is it?" Zoey rubbed an eye with her wrist.

I went back to the bedroom and retrieved my phone. "A little after eight," I called back to her.

"Oh, man. We've got to get going."

I was already pulling a Snowden Family Clambake sweatshirt over my pajama top. "Let me go find Tom and see what's going on."

I was answered by the sound of Zoey throwing up in the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" I didn't really want to get any closer but was ready to make the sacrifice if she needed me.

"I'm always fine right after I puke."

Thank goodness for small mercies."Do you want me to send Jamie to you?"

"I can't see him before the wedding!"

Thinking that might mean she wouldn't see Jamie for some number of days or months, I left without comment.

Tom was on the front porch on his cell phone. "Service came back a few minutes ago," he mouthed at me, listening, and nodding as he did.

The call ended. "The medical examiner is on his way to meet the marine patrol to pick up our corpse. Lieutenant Binder will come out with them and a team."

"Good." I loved Tom, but he'd been up all night. I was glad his boss's steady hand would be on the tiller. "Just tell me this, are we having a wedding here in six hours?"

"The lieutenant hopes that we are. The crime scene is already destroyed. We moved the body twice. Whatever secrets it holds only the medical examiner can uncover. And the rain and wind have undoubtedly wiped out the rest of the evidence. The lieutenant is weighing the loss of a small, already-contaminated crime scene against the loss of fifty witnesses, who will presumably be here today and spread across the entire country by tomorrow. As soon as the techs get here, they'll search the dining pavilion and the area around it, but that won't take long. They'll be done by the time the guests arrive."

"Hmm . . . okay." This was unexpected news, and my brain flipped from wondering how I was going to tell Zoey the wedding was off to how I was going to tell her it was on. "Okay," I said again, shrugging. We'd been prepared to put on our first wedding in the renovated Windsholme yesterday, and we were, in all important ways, prepared to do it today. "If Zoey and Jamie agree."

"Of course. Can we talk to them now?"

"Zoey doesn't want to see Jamie before the wedding, so if we think this might happen, we'll have to talk to them separately."

"Jamie first," Tom said.

"Did you get any sleep?" I asked as we headed to the dining room.

"In the chair." He put a hand to his neck and moved it from one side to the other, the bones cracking so loudly I could hear them.

"I'm sorry."

"All part of the wedding-slash-homicide investigation service."

I gave him a grim laugh. Poor guy, he deserved at least my appreciation for his jokes.

Pete, Dan, and Jamie were all in the dining room, eating a hearty breakfast made by Livvie. Sonny, Jack, and Page were there, too. Page was bent over the phone she'd been deprived of since the previous evening, no doubt catching up with her friends. Constance and Bill arrived right behind Tom and me. They cast curious glances at Tom but went to the sideboard, which held chafing dishes filled with eggs and bacon, pancakes, and sausage, and plates of fruit and pastries. There was no sign of Derek or Amelia.

Jordan came in, smartly dressed in a clean white shirt and black pants and carrying a carafe of strong-smelling coffee.

I slowly became aware that everyone in the room, except Page, was looking at Tom. Finally, Dan Dawes broke the silence, "Are we having a wedding today or not?"

"That depends," Tom said. "Before I can answer, I need to borrow the groom. I'll be back soon to answer all your questions."

I sincerely doubted he'd answer all their questions.

I followed Jamie and Tom into the foyer. "I bet we are the least hungover groomsmen ever," I heard Pete saying to Dan as we left.

Well, there is that.

"Do you want to get married today?" Tom asked Jamie without preamble.

Jamie rubbed his hand across his chin. He hadn't shaved, and it made a rasping sound. "What does Zoey say?"

"I haven't asked her yet," Tom answered. "The first thing she'll ask me is what you want, so I thought I'd have that information in hand before we talk to her."

Jamie looked past Tom and me, gazing around the room where the ceremony would take place. Finally, he spoke. "My whole family is here. My parents and my aunts and uncles are in their eighties. I don't know how much longer they're going to be able to make the trip. If we do it later, I'm sure we'll do something small, and that's not what Zoey wants. And she wants to be married before the baby comes."

It was the first time Jamie had mentioned the baby. In the craziness and confusion of the previous night, I hadn't had a chance to tell Tom. I watched the emotions play across his face—surprise, then recovery, then, "Congratulations, Jamie. That's great. I'm happy for you both."

Jamie smiled, pleased, and maybe a little relieved to have the news out there.

"It could be her dad that died," I said. "Zoey may not be up for it."

"Could be her dad," Tom emphasized.

Jamie cleared his throat. "Whoever he was to her, a man was murdered. It's Zoey's decision. Tell her I'm up for it, but absolutely no pressure."

* * *

"Of course, I do!" Zoey answered Tom. "It's my wedding day. Can you think of a better day to get married?"

"Zoey, you don't have to," I assured her. "Say the word, and I will wind this whole thing down."

She looked at me, chin set. "Tom said we can have the wedding. We're having it."

My mind ticked through the million things that I had to do, that we all had to do. And the small amount of time we had to accomplish it.

* * *

Back down in the dining room, Tom made the announcement to cheers and applause. "The wedding is on."

Then it seemed like everyone was running everywhere all at once, off to get showered and dressed. The life seemed to have returned to the party.

But these people had had all night to get used to the idea that there was a dead man in the billiards room. I didn't think we could keep the information from spreading among the other guests when they arrived. I hoped the news, sanitized as it would be with the man's body off the island and the event firmly in the past, however recent, wouldn't put a damper on the wedding.

At that moment, Derek and Amelia arrived in the dining room. Like Tom, they were dressed in the same clothes they'd had on the day before. They didn't have anything else.

"When's breakfast?" Amelia chirped.

"Coffee's still up," I said, indicating the carafe on the sideboard. "I'll see what I can find in the kitchen."

"Who takes us back to our B and B to get changed?" Derek asked me.

I looked at Tom. Sonny had already left to get the florist, caterer, hairdresser, and photographer.

"I'd prefer you remain here," Tom said.

"I can't go to a wedding like this!" Amelia's clambake outfit was cute, but casual.

Particularly not the wedding of your boyfriend's ex.

"Tell you what," Tom said, with every appearance of reasonableness. "I have colleagues coming over from the mainland soon. Tell me the name of your accommodation, and they'll bring your stuff over. You can get changed here."

"No!" Amelia and Derek reacted in unison.

"No way," Derek added. "You can't force us to stay here. I know my rights."

"No way are your cops going through my underwear." Amelia was indignant. I wouldn't have appreciated it either.

"We have a female detective coming—" Tom started.

"Or going through our stuff, period." Derek talked over him, red in the face.

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

Amelia lifted her shoulders, "I have no idea what it's called."

But Derek answered, "The Snuggles Inn."

"I know the owners well. They'll be here at the wedding later. What if I call over there and ask one of them to retrieve the things from your room? No police need enter, and they can give everything to the detectives to bring to you. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until the rest of the guests arrive, when the Snugg sisters can bring your stuff."

Derek looked undecided, but Amelia jumped on the offer. I called the Snuggles Inn and got Vee, much the better sister to handle requests for a cosmetic kit and complicated underwear.

I handed the phone to Amelia and went to the kitchen to get them some breakfast while she talked to Vee.

While Derek and Amelia ate, I cleared the dirty dishes off the table, intending to help Livvie clean up before the catering crew arrived. From the kitchen window, I saw several boats tie up at our dock. Tom huddled with Lieutenant Binder and a group of official-looking people. Then Tom walked them to the dining pavilion, pointing out where the man had fallen off the bench and where we'd taken him behind the gift-shop counter. A crime-scene tech took photographs, and several uniformed state troopers fanned out, searching the lawn. Tom, Binder, and the medical examiner approached Windsholme.

By the time the kitchen was clean, Sonny arrived with our Boston Whaler. I spotted the catering crew and their load of still more plastic containers and cardboard boxes. They were bringing over all the food that wasn't already here, except for the elaborate five-tiered wedding cake. Another one of Zoey's bows to tradition, it was coming later with the guests on the much more stable Jacquie II. The tall woman who must be Jordan's mother was with the caterers, looking competent and strong as she helped load Cassie Howard's arms with containers and then picked up more with her own.

Eloise, the hairdresser-slash-makeup artist, disembarked along with her several cases and pieces of equipment. The photographer came with her camera cases and lights. The florist was the last one off. She and Sonny reached back into the boat and retrieved the boxes containing the centerpieces for every table, the bouquets for Zoey, Livvie and me, and the boutonnieres for the men. A huge box must hold the floral swag, as long as the grand staircase, and another the flowered arch under which Jamie and Zoey would be married. The flowers were a riot of blues, pinks, and lavenders, the colors of the wedding. I smiled automatically when I saw them, excited about the wedding for the first time. Thoughts of logistics and murder investigations disappeared momentarily. All the challenges of the day would return, but it was a moment of pure joy, and I savored it.

"You go first," I said to Livvie, pointing to the hairdresser. Two uniformed state troopers escorted the group up toward the house, keeping them at the edge of the great lawn, far away from the dining pavilion. "I may be needed by the detectives."

"Needed?" Livvie teased. "You may need to find out what's going on. That's not the same thing." Nonetheless, she agreed to my plan. "I'll get the caterers settled. My dress is at the little house. I'll retrieve it and report for a blow-dry and an updo."

"Thanks." I hugged my sister. "You're the best."