|
 Wedding's
Widow
Chapter One: Alarm Bells
Claire
Linden extended a shapely hand to show her large pear-shaped
diamond ring to her therapist.
"It's
gorgeous!" Cassidy McCabe exclaimed.
"It
cost a fortune," Claire said in an uneasy voice, catching
her lip between her small white teeth.
"You
don't sound happy about it." Cassidy sat across from Claire
in the office at the rear of Cassidy's house.
"It
makes me nervous. I mean, what if Max wakes up one morning
and decides he didn't get his money's worth?" Claire let out
a small laugh. She was in her early thirties, slender and
sprightly, with a sweet, childlike face.
If
Max ever dares think such a thing, then he's a pig and
doesn't deserve you, Cassidy thought. Which in fact might be
the case.
"Are
you afraid he might stop loving you?"
"I
don't know, I don't know. He really hasn't done anything to
make me doubt him." Claire ran her fingers through her long
chestnut hair. "The other thing is, I can't imagine how he
could afford it. I mean, the new job's going well, but
twelve grand for a ring?"
There are some things about Max and money that don't add up.
"The
problem really isn't Max, it's me. I mean, how can you feel
lovable after being married to someone who told you on a
daily basis how worthless you were?"
Right. And then he stalked you when you tried to leave.
"You
know, the worst of it wasn't what Hank did to me. It was
having Molly see me act like such a doormat. I hate to think
of the effect it may've had on her—watching her mother be
terrorized like that."
"Have
you told Hank about the wedding?"
She
shivered slightly. "I'm going to next week."
"You
still afraid of him?"
"Just
of what he'll say. When I'm right there in front of him, he
can still make me feel like a slut for even thinking about
another man. But then I'll walk out the door and remember
the things you and I talked about and I'll be fine. Hank is
all hot air. He'd never do anything."
* * *
"So
tell me about the couple we're driving way the hell out into
the boonies to see get married," Zach Moran said from behind
the wheel of his new red Subaru.
They
were headed south along a four-lane highway an hour's
distance from Oak Park. On either side lay wooded areas with
bright green, newly minted leaves, interspersed with
expensive new developments and freshly plowed,
earthy-smelling fields.
"Claire's a real sweetheart," Cassidy replied. "Mother of a
six-year-old. Married before to an abusive guy. Also had a
couple of abusive boyfriends. She's been working in therapy
to break the pattern." And here's hoping she did.
"The guy she's marrying is a chef at some hot new restaurant
in Naperville. Actually, not just a chef—he's part owner."
"What
is this? You actually tossed me a few crumbs of
information."
"If
you didn't expect an answer, why ask?"
"I
must like hearing you tell me in that cranky voice of yours
that I should know better than to ask about clients."
Confidentiality is never getting to tell fun stories.
"Claire's pretty open about her problems. She said as long
as you were coming, it'd be okay to fill you in on a little
background." Cassidy glanced at her husband. Smooth dark
hair above a bronze-skinned face. Although he lived most of
his life in tee shirts and jeans, he'd considered the
wedding a sufficient occasion to warrant a dress code
upgrade: a designer jacket over a collarless black shirt.
Cassidy wore a new short-skirted dress, purple silk
splattered with pink flowers, a prize she'd found at her
local resale store. Frowning, she touched a snagged thread,
picked off cat hairs. It had looked pristine when she'd
donned it earlier that day, but because she was never able
to resist her cat's wiles, it now resembled all the other
items in her closet.
"I was
surprised you agreed to come with me," Cassidy said. "I
thought you wouldn't be interested."
"I
like weddings. Reminds me of ours." He smiled fondly. "Used
to be, I'd sit in the back pew and wonder how long the
marriage would last. Now I get all misty-eyed." He furrowed
his brow. "Look what you've done to me. Ruined my cynicism.
How will I keep my edge?"
Cassidy screwed up her mouth at him.
"You
know, I was meaning to ask. I'm not sure why we're even
attending this shindig. I thought you never socialized with
clients."
"Weddings are an exception. When I've worked with someone
over a long period of time, I like to celebrate their
triumphs. Especially if they invite me, which they don't
always do."
Just wish I didn't have these teensy alarm bells going off
in my head.
So
what's the problem? Claire's crazy about Max. Max says he's
crazy about Claire. No reason to think this won't be a
happy-ever-after, stuff-dreams-are-made-of kind of marriage.
Except for those few small courtship irregularities
committed by Max. Which you pointed out to Claire but she
didn't want to hear.
They
drove through Dorrity, population 4,300, and arrived at a
vast green park, a dozen or so cars at the curb.
Zach
stopped behind a green Jaguar. As Cassidy reached for the
door, he said, "Let me get that for you."
She
sat back and smiled, remembering how snarly she used to be
whenever he tried to get away with any courtly little
gestures. What a relief not to have my guard up all the
time against the possibility that Zach might want to do
something nice.
Opening the door, he said, "Doesn't look like much of a
crowd."
"The
wedding got thrown together at the last minute. They only
invited a handful of people."
"And
you're one of them? She must really think she got her
money's worth."
"Not
everyone is such a therapy-heretic as you."
"So,
what do you say when people ask how you know Claire?"
"I
lie, of course."
Cassidy raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright May
sun. The sky overhead was a deep cloudless blue. In front of
her stretched a lush expanse of rolling green parkland, a
round concrete-bordered pool in the middle, curved flower
beds ablaze with red and yellow tulips on either side.
Beyond the pool a white gazebo stood in a stand of flowering
trees, about twenty men and women in wedding finery
clustered around it. In the distance a wooded ridge extended
across the north end of the park.
They
strolled in the direction of the wedding party. As they
reached the fringe of the crowd, Claire, standing next to a
tall blond man, spotted Cassidy.
"Cass,
you're here!" Dragging the man along with her, Claire rushed
over to hug her therapist. "I couldn't have done it without
you," she whispered in Cassidy's ear.
A
small glow rose in Cassidy's chest. "Sure you could."
Gesturing toward the man, her voice filled with pride,
Claire announced, "This is Max."
And
isn't he something. Cassidy gazed into sky-blue eyes
that were fastened warmly on her face. A thatch of corn
tassel hair fell across his forehead. A wide slap-happy grin
plastered on his mouth. Looks shell-shocked. Just how he
ought to look on his wedding day. Maybe it'll be all right
after all. Studying him, she noted the custom-made suit,
the Rolex on his wrist. The new restaurant must be raking
it in.
"She
talks about you all the time," Max said to Cassidy. "Guess
you're the one I have to thank for getting her to the point
where she's ready to take the leap again."
"You
just make sure she doesn't regret it," Cassidy said sternly.
"You
can count on it." Max planted a lingering kiss on Claire's
mouth. The bride, in a filmy, cream-colored dress that
floated around her like a cloud, was just as stunning as the
groom. A baby's breath wreath encircled her brow, and her
glossy dark hair was pulled into a thick braid that hung
halfway down her back.
She
always seems so innocent. Hard to believe she's a high-level
exec, probably earning twice what you and Zach do together.
They
chatted another minute, then Claire and Max moved on.
Scanning the crowd, Cassidy tried to identify the players.
Claire was deep in conversation with a matronly looking
woman Cassidy assumed to be her mother. Next to Claire was a
thirtysomething woman holding the bridal bouquet.
Erin. The older sister who swings back and forth between
mothering Claire and picking fights. Claire had talked
quite a bit about Erin in therapy. She was tall and
thickset, with a square face and blunt-cut hair. She had,
however, made the most of her plus-size frame by attiring
herself in a long flowing dress. Erin glanced around at the
guests, her mouth frozen in a camera-ready smile.
Cassidy suspected that the never-married Erin was less than
thrilled at serving as maid of honor. Can't be easy
seeing your younger, prettier sister sought after by a
dashing Max when nobody—not even an undashing dork—has ever
sought after you.
Cassidy could sympathize. After her ex dumped her, she'd
gone through a period herself when weddings had felt like
salt in her wounds.
Zach
draped his arm across her shoulders. "Claire and Max look so
happy, they remind me of us."
Cassidy stood on tip-toes to kiss her nearly six-foot
husband. Solidly built, with wide shoulders and a thick
chest that narrowed to a not-exactly-slender waist. Not
half the dazzler Max is. But you wouldn't trade him for the
handsomest guy in Hollywood. She rubbed her garnet
wedding ring, worth pennies compared to Claire's big rock.
Zach had wanted to adorn Cassidy's finger with a pricey
stone but she'd insisted on the garnet, claiming not to be
an expensive-jewelry kind of girl.
A
young, strawberry-blond woman drifted over to talk to them.
"Hey, I'm Julie, Max's sister." In a loose dress and
headband, she looked like a flower child from the sixties.
After
introductions, Julie tilted her head to gaze at them. Dreamy
red-brown eyes in an elfin face surrounded by curly tendrils
of hair. "I'm an astrologer. At least, that's what I do to
earn money. In my innermost soul, I'm a poet, but nobody
pays you for that." She offered a wispy smile. "But I like
astrology too." To Cassidy she said, "I'd love to cast your
chart sometime."
Your belief in astrology runs neck and neck with your belief
in the National Enquirer.
"Thanks, but—"
"That's okay. I run into a lot of skeptics. But I know the
charts never lie." She turned to face the bride and groom.
"Isn't Max spectacular? And Claire—she's just so beautiful.
After today, I'll get to be an official aunt to Molly." She
gazed into Cassidy's eyes. "But I'm not so sure they ought
to get married."
"Why
not? Don't their charts fit together?" Or whatever the
hell it is charts do.
"No,"
Julie said somberly. "Something else." She started to wander
away.
"Wait," Cassidy called after her. "Why shouldn't they get
married?"
Julie
threw her another vague smile and kept moving.
Cassidy heard the sound of whistling and turned to see a
broad-shouldered man approaching from the street. Thrusting
out his hand to Zach, he said in a booming voice, "Nicky
Andrews. Used to be Maxie's boss till he cut out on me."
"Zach
Moran. And my wife, Cassidy McCabe."
"Name
sounds familiar. Haven't I met you before?" The newcomer had
a long snow-white ponytail that contrasted strongly with his
tanned youthful face.
"I'm a
reporter at the Post. Maybe I interviewed you
sometime."
"Oh
yeah, now I remember. We talked on the phone about that girl
who disappeared from Le Barre." Nicky punched his right fist
into his left hand. "Couldn't answer any of your questions,
though."
"Nobody else could either."
"Real
tragedy. So, what are you doing here?"
"My
wife knows Claire."
"Well,
glad to meet you." Raising his hand to someone in the crowd,
he bellowed, "Yeah baby!" and took off.
Cassidy asked, "What story was that?"
"A
girl in her twenties went to a bar one night, got a little
drunk, talked to a lot of people, then just disappeared.
Somebody thinks he saw her on the street later but no one
knows for sure. This all happened a couple of months ago,
and I wrote several column inches about it at the time."
"Of
course. I don't know how I could have forgotten." Cassidy
shivered slightly. "God, it's eerie to think of someone just
vanishing like that."
"People, people." The minister addressed the guests from the
top step of the white gazebo. "It's time for the nuptials to
begin. Please gather around the steps while Claire's friend
plays Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze.' "
Standing to the left of the gazebo, a willowy woman with
straight blond hair lifted a flute to her mouth, releasing a
string of haunting, crystalline notes.
The
guests shuffled into a semi-circle in front of the minister.
As Cassidy moved into place, she noticed a stony-faced,
fiftyish woman standing beside an elegant man off to the
side. Looks like somebody who got dragged by wild horses.
Claire
went to stand on the left-hand side of the minister, her
sister next to her. At the same time Max took up a stance on
the minister's right, his best man beside him, a darkly
handsome fellow whose brooding aspect was as different as
possible from Max's sunny aura. The bride's mother propelled
Molly, a basket of rose petals over her arm, into position
next to Erin. Giggling, the child twisted around to stare at
the guests.
Warm
sun bathed Cassidy's face; the fragrance of spring filled
her nostrils. A flock of small brown birds landed on the
gazebo roof and commenced to make raucous conversation.
Molly wandered away from her post, threw rose petals at
another young girl, then scurried back to stand beside Erin.
Cassidy smiled to herself. How silly of you to go mother-henning
Claire. Compared to all the grief Zach gave you at the
beginning, Max's infractions hardly even count.
As the
music ended, the minister looked out over the crowd. "Let's
begin this blessed day with a prayer." Cassidy lowered her
head slightly. "Holy father, I give into your keeping Max
and Claire. May they live always in the light of your—"
Max's
head jerked wildly. Blood flew in all directions, drenching
Claire's delicate cream-colored dress. The crack of a
gunshot. Screams. Zach pushed Cassidy to the ground,
covering her with his body. Peering through his arms, she
saw Claire down on all fours, her mother and sister crowding
in next to her, the best man hovering nearby. Molly tugged
at Claire's bloody dress and wailed. |
