Newlywed Dead (22 page)

“I lied because I didn't want anyone to know that I actually went to school with that lowlife bartender, okay?” Jen screamed as people gathered around listening to my story, eyeing the pictures on the screen. “You saw her, Mrs. Fulcrum, Mrs. Thomson. She looked like a wasted drug addict. She should have never been allowed to tend bar anywhere near our social set.”

“I heard that Ashley liked to play pranks in college,” I said carefully. “Look at these pictures of you on the float. Look at the float skirt. Aren't those Ashley and Kiera's sorority's letters? They switched your letters with their own, didn't they?”

“Those two were horrid, mean girls. They laughed. They thought humiliating me was funny. They were nothing but
lowlife girls who had to depend on scholarships and school loans to even get into the school. They had the gall to prank me. Me! My family has a pedigree that goes back seven generations.”

“You'd had enough of their pranks that night, didn't you?” I asked, and flipped the picture back to the one where she was screaming with her fists raised. “You had a gun that night, didn't you?”

“Of course, I had a gun,” Jen sneered. “My father insisted that I do. Michigan allows concealed carry. I wasn't breaking any laws. I had a permit.”

“My guess is that you only meant to threaten them with it,” I said softly. “Isn't that right? You were so mad you took it out and pointed it at Kiera.” I flipped to another picture where she had her hand in the pocket of the jacket she wore over her parade gown. In the picture you could see the outline of a gun under the fabric. “That's all you meant to do, wasn't it?” I said, and stepped closer to put my hand on her arm. “You didn't mean to shoot Kiera, did you?”

I could feel her trembling under my touch. Her eyes were filled with anger and tears. “I didn't point it at Kiera, stupid,” she said. “I pointed it at Ashley. She was not the nice person you seem to think she was. She had a vile tongue. She made fun of me. Me! She laughed and said I looked the fool in front of the entire campus and all the alumni waving and smiling as if I were some kind of float queen, and all the while my float had their letters on it. I took out the gun and shoved it in her laughing face. But she didn't stop laughing.
She saw my gun and laughed harder. She said it was a kid's toy. She couldn't be afraid of something so ridiculous.”

“The gun went off,” I said.

“The gun went off,” she repeated softly. “Ashley fell to the ground.” Jen looked at me pleadingly. “I didn't know what to do. Kiera started screaming. She was running away. She was going to tell.”

“So you shot her.”

“I raised my hand to make her stop. I told her to stop. Stop!” Jen said. Brad stepped back, letting her go with a stricken look on his face.

“She didn't stop, did she?”

“No,” Jennifer said. “I shot her and she went down.”

“And you left them both for dead.”

“I . . . I got scared. I dropped the gun and fell to my knees.”

“Why didn't you call 911?” I asked.

“I was in shock. I called my parents.”

“You called your parents?” Detective Murphy said.

“Yes,” she said, her gaze far-off and her shoulders slumped. “I called my father. I was hysterical. He told me to calm down. He asked me to look around. Was anyone nearby? Had anyone heard the shots?” She took a deep breath. “I figured that someone had to have heard. Two gunshots on campus. Someone had to have called the authorities.”

“But no one came,” I said.

“No, no one came. Then I realized that everyone was at the bonfire. There were firecrackers going off left and
right. I told my father. He told me to leave. He told me to not go back to my dorm, but instead to get in my car and drive straight home to Chicago.”

“So you drove,” I said. “How were you able to drive?”

“I was in shock and it felt good to run away,” she said. “I put the gun in a tote bag and put it in my trunk. When I got home, my parents met me at the curb. My mother got me inside and cleaned me up.”

“What happened to the gun?” Detective Murphy asked.

“I don't know,” she said, and shook her head. “Daddy took care of it. He had my car detailed. I spent the rest of the weekend with them. We came up with a story. I was to tell everyone, including Brad, that Aunt Millie had taken sick and I was called home right after the parade.”

“You lied to me,” Brad said, and took another step back. His face was filled with grief and disbelief. “Is that why your parents moved to California? Is that why they wanted you to move with them?”

“Don't you see?” she said, her expression pleading. “I stayed to be with you. I love you and I stayed. It was going okay. Really, it was . . . until I saw Ashley at the first wedding doing the bartender thing. She took off with Samantha Lyn and I had to know if she told Samantha anything.”

“She didn't,” Samantha said. “She never told me about any of this.”

“I didn't know,” Jen said. “I started waiting for her to remember. For the police to come.” Jen shook she was so upset. “Then when I saw Ashley bartending at yet another
event, I freaked out. I saw her watching. I swear she knew. She remembered. Then I saw her talking to Samantha Lyn and then you, Pepper. I knew she was telling you all my secrets. If she hadn't, she was about to . . .”

“So you slipped Xanax in her drink,” I said.

“I just wanted her to leave, you know? I wanted her to forget even being at the wedding. I needed her to forget.”

“Wait,” Brad said. “Where did you get the Xanax?”

“I was in the bathroom with Mrs. Thomson and Samantha,” Jen said. “I saw it in Mrs. Thomson's purse.”

“You were in my purse?” Mrs. Thomson said, and put her hand to her mouth.

“You left your purse on the counter, remember? You asked me to watch it while you used the toilet,” Jen said. “I took a couple of pills. I didn't think you would notice.”

“I didn't,” Mrs. Thomson said, her face going pale. “I trusted you, Jen.”

“It wasn't supposed to kill her,” Jen sobbed. “Just shut her up. I was going to speak to the hiring manager and make sure Ashley never worked another country club event.” She turned to Brad. “Once we were engaged, Mom and Dad were going to move us to California, far from Ashley and anyone who knew about that night.”

Tears formed in her eyes as she looked from Brad to me and back. “This was supposed to be our perfect night,” she screamed. “You ruined it!” She advanced on me, hands raised like claws as if to gouge my eyes out. “You ruined everything.”

Detective Murphy stepped in and took hold of Jennifer. “Come with me,” he said, and pulled her away. “Don't make me handcuff you in front of your friends.”

Brad stood in horror as he watched Detective Murphy haul his bride-to-be off. He shook his head and sent me a look of disgust. “I can't believe you did this. Jennifer only said that because you forced her to. I expect a full refund on my retainer. I can't believe this outrage.” He stormed off and pulled out his phone. I assumed he was calling his lawyer.

I blew out a long breath and slumped into a nearby chair. “I'm so sorry, everyone,” I said to the crowd. “That was not planned. Please enjoy your evening. We still have dancing and more food as well as a fireworks show.” I turned to Mrs. Fulcrum and Mrs. Thomson. “We can reschedule Clark's proposal. I know this kind of put a damper on things.”

“A damper?” Mrs. Thomson looked down her nose at me. “This is the worst evening of my life. That girl used my prescription to kill someone. I can't, no, I won't have Samantha Lyn involved in this spectacle. Come on, Samantha Lyn, let's go.”

“Oh, no,” Samantha Lyn piped up and pulled her arm out of her mother's hand. “We've just seen how bad choices can ruin lives. I'm not going to let you ruin mine. I won't marry Clark. Sorry, Clark.”

“What? No,” Mrs. Thomson said. “You've just had a scare, is all.”

“I can't believe you pulled such a public stunt, Pepper,” Mrs. Fulcrum said. “And now you've frightened poor
Samantha Lyn. Come child, you and Clark need to go home. You'll reconsider after the shock has worn off.”

“No, I won't reconsider,” Samantha Lyn said. “I'm finally listening to my heart. I don't care if you and Dad cut me off. I'm going to go back to college, somehow, and I'm going to decide my own life.”

“Well, I never . . .” Mrs. Fulcrum said. “The audacity of some people. Come on, Clark, this disastrous night has made one thing abundantly clear. Samantha Lyn Thomson is not the girl for you. We can't have outbursts like that in our family.” She looked Mrs. Thomson up and down. “We also can't be associated with people whose misjudgment can cause another person to die.” She grabbed Clark by the arm and pulled him away. Clark didn't seem at all worried over losing Samantha. He merely shrugged and slouched his way out the door with his mother.

“Well,” Mrs. Thomson said, and took a tissue out of her clutch to dab at her eyes. “I've never been so humiliated in my entire life. Samantha Lyn, how could you do this to me?”

“I didn't do this to you,” Samantha said, and put her hand on her mother's arm. “I did this for me.”

Mrs. Thomson shrugged away from her daughter. “I don't even know who you are anymore. You want to go to college so bad? You go ahead and pack your bags. You'll end up just as twisted as those girls. Maybe even dead,” she sniffed.

“Lots of women go to college, Mother, and graduate just fine.”

“You can expect your things to be put out of my house.”

“Mom, please.” Samantha Lyn looked at me as her mom stormed off.

“If you need a place to stay, I have a spare room,” I said. “You're a smart and beautiful woman. Go to college. Live your life, you only have one.”

Samantha blew out a long breath. “That's what Ashley said, too.” She straightened her shoulders. “I'm going to do it, if for no other reason but to make Ashley proud.”

“That's my girl,” I said, and patted her shoulder.

She smiled at me. “Besides, I'm pretty sure Dad will talk Mom down. At the worst, I'll move into the carriage house apartment. It's not the Fulcrum mansion, but it will be a place of my own.” She reached up and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Pepper, for figuring out what really happened to Ashley and for helping me see that life is short. I need to live my life for me.”

I watched her walk out as the fireworks started overhead. There were still a hundred people at the event. It might not have ended up being a proposal event, but it did raise money for autism awareness. I grabbed a glass of champagne off the waiter's tray and toasted the stars, then drank it down. I may have found a killer, but this night could ruin Perfect Proposals. I sighed. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

Toby came over to me with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Interesting party.”

I laughed and put my hand to my forehead. “I hope that never happens again.”

“I bet,” he said. “This certainly didn't have the romance
you keep lecturing me about.” He raised his right eyebrow. “Maybe my way of looking for a wife using background checks and learning all about her before we meet might be the smarter move after all.”

“Really?” I asked. “You still think that even after meeting Amelia?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, and his smile widened. “I did a background check on her the minute you told me about her.”

“You did?” I frowned.

“Don't worry,” he said, and winked. “She passed with flying colors.”

“Of course she did,” I said. “I wouldn't have introduced you if I didn't think she would.”

“Also, she told me she had me checked out as well,” he said, and sipped his drink.

“She did?”

“Yes,” he said, and smiled. “I passed as well. I was pleased to meet a girl who thought like me on the matter.”

“When's your next date, again?”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I happen to know it's going to go a whole lot better than tonight.”

I chuckled and clinked my glass on his. “Here's to new beginnings and better choices in love.”

“Hear, hear.”

“So when all was said and done, you raised ten thousand dollars for autism,” Mom said.

“Yes,” I said. “The event was such a success as a fund-raiser that Mr. Fulcrum insisted that his foundation pay for all the trappings even though I upset his wife. He said it was good press and good for his taxes as a write-off. In fact, he wants to plan another one for next year. He just asked that I not use it to catch another killer.”

“I certainly hope not,” Mom said.

“You won't be planning it, will you?” Felicity asked.

We sat around Mom and Dad's dining room table. Mom had made a roast with all the trimmings. Felicity and Warren looked tan and rested. They practically glowed with happiness. They held hands on the table for all to see.

“Oh, no,” I said, and looked at Gage. “But Trinity Prop House has already been asked to do the costumes again next year. Isn't that right, Gage?”

“Yes,” he said, and beamed at me. “Several members of the country club were impressed by what we had to offer and have set up meetings to discuss other events in the coming months.”

Mom had the house decorated for Christmas. There was a fully decorated six-foot tree in the corner of the living room. Twinkle lights surrounded the dining room windows. Candles flickered on the beautifully done table. It was warm and cozy and I felt how full of love my parents' house was.

“What about Perfect Proposals?” Mom asked. “I heard Brad threatened to sue you over the accusation even though Jen confessed. Can he do that?”

“Perfect Proposals is fine,” I said, and patted my mother's hand. “Warren's lawyer went over everything with me and promised me that there is no reason to worry. Any lawsuit brought against me or my company would be considered frivolous in the face of Jennifer's confession.”

“I know she did horrible things,” Felicity said, “but she must have been eaten up with guilt. In fact, you did her a huge favor. Imagine trying to live your life, knowing all the while that you were responsible for so much death.”

“They'll plea bargain,” Warren said, and sipped from his glass of pinot noir. “The McCutchens have money. They won't want this to go to trial. The press would devastate their reputation.”

“What will happen to Jennifer?” I wondered.

“She will most likely spend the rest of her days in jail.”

“Well, let's hope that I never have to do another proposal murder reveal ever again,” I said, and raised my glass.

“Hear, hear,” my family chimed in, and we all touched glasses to toast.

“You've come a long way since you first planned Felicity's proposal,” Dad said. “I couldn't be more proud of both of my girls.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Love you, Daddy.” Felicity blew him a kiss.

“Here's to family, friends, and perfect proposals.” Warren lifted his glass.

I couldn't agree more. “Cheers.”