Shepherd's Crook (27 page)

seventy-six

Joe's theory about angels
was still on my mind as I walked into Parkview Hospital and asked for Phil Martin's room. Based on the number of people already there, you might have thought the guy was well-liked, but the angry voices wafting out the door suggested otherwise. I peeked around the doorframe and tried to sort out the scene.

Martin was propped up in bed, his face pallid and moist. Tom nodded at me from the far side of the room, and Hutchinson stood near the foot of the bed. A
well-coiffed
,
well-preserved
woman maybe ten years my senior owned the loudest of the voices. I had seen her enter the room as I got off the elevator, and now I recognized her from photos and TV news. Martin's wife. She had her hand clamped around Chelsea's upper arm and if I hadn't
side-stepped
, she would have shoved the younger woman straight into me. “Stay away from him,” she hissed. “You've done enough damage.” Then she fixed her angry gray eyes on me and said, “Who are you?”

Part of me wanted to ask her the same question for etiquette's sake, but I decided she deserved a break. I offered my hand and said, “Janet MacPhail. I live next door to Councilman Martin.”

“Former Councilman,” she said, and then her expression shifted from anger to something I couldn't define, something suggestive of mutual interest. “I'm Anna Martin. You're the woman with the dogs.”

“One dog,” I said. “But yes, that's probably me.”

“Thank you for saving my husband's life.”

“Oh, no, that wasn't me,” I said. “That was another neighbor, Goldie Sunshine. She stopped the bleeding.”

She looked confused. “So two women came to his rescue?”

I smiled at her. “And two dogs, actually. Mine and Goldie's.”

She gave me a little nod and turned on her husband.

“How did you know about this?” I mouthed the question at Tom, watching Anna Martin and her husband from the corner of my eye. Judging by his wife's posture, I wasn't sure the Councilman was out of danger quite yet.

“Goldie called me,” said Tom, moving toward me and, by default, the door. “Maybe we should leave.”

“No, don't go.” It was Phil Martin.

Hutchinson cleared his throat and said, “I just have a few questions, Councilman, but I can come back.”

Martin dismissed that idea with a wave.

“Okay, sir. Do you have any idea why you were attacked?”

Martin shook his head, and his wife jumped in. “They were looking for that woman, the one who was blackmailing you.” Martin seemed to shrink under her glare, and he flinched when she spat, “The red head.”

Martin's eyes went wide and what little color was left abandoned his face. “What—”

“She came to me. To me! For God's sake, Philip. She wanted money to get away. She told me about your little scheme.”

Hutch looked at me and I shrugged.

“Did she show you—”

Anna sounded like she wanted to spit on Martin. “No, dear, she didn't show me the photos. She didn't have to.”

“What did you, I mean, did you give her—”

“Money? Not on your life.”

“But wait,” I said. “Why did she want to leave?”

Anna gave me a
one-shoulder
shrug. “Phil wasn't her first fool. I guess she finally picked one she couldn't bully with her dirty pictures. Not like this one.” She pointed her chin at Martin and paused as if considering whether to tell us more. “She said there were two men looking for her, employees,” she sneered the word, “of a thug of some sort from Toledo or Cincinnati—”

“Cleveland,” said Hutchinson.

“Whatever. She said her own stupid husband got himself in trouble with some unsavory people and they came looking for him. Her bad luck he played poker with a gentleman she conned in Las Vegas.”

“Reno,” said Hutchinson

Anna shot him a look. Then she turned back to her husband and said, “You've had your fun, Phil. Now grow up. You're resigning from the Council for health reasons, but first you're going to withdraw that ridiculous pet limit bill your little friend seduced you into putting forward. You're getting rid of that house and you're coming home. And if you see that little tramp again, you'll wish the shooter had aimed better.” She started to turn, but added, “And you'd better get that little chippy's bail money back.” She stopped on her way to the door and took my arm. “I'd like to take you and your friend—Goldie, is it?—to lunch one day soon.”

When she was gone, I turned toward Martin. He looked like he might need a nice big drip bag of morphine.

“I hear you're going to be fine,” I said.

He nodded and cleared his throat. “I'm sorry for … well, I'm sorry. Thank you. I wish I could thank your dogs. They …” He sniffed and shook his head.

“You can thank them,” I said. “Do what your wife asked. Withdraw the bill. It's a bad law.” He nodded but didn't say anything. I was about to apologize for my role in the attack, which I still thought was a case of mistaking Martin's house for mine, but he started to speak again. “I've made a lot of mistakes. I don't know what got into me. Those young women.”

Hutch and I exchanged a look, but kept quiet.

“I'm an old fool.” He gave a sad laugh. “Or as Anna says, a stupid dirty old man. They were just so pretty. They made me feel young—” Martin tried to shift himself in the bed, but caught his breath and grimaced. When he could speak again, he said, “Bella. Beautiful Bella. Bella the bitch.”

Bella Verano.
That was one of Summer's aliases.

Martin's tone shifted to a snarl. “And her old man.”

“Evan?” I blurted.

“Who's Evan?” Martin asked. “I'm talking about her husband. Fancies himself a cowboy. Rex something.” Or Ray Turnbull, I thought, before Martin cut me off again. “He's the muscle, but she's the dangerous one. She's the brains.”

I wanted to stay and hear more, but I had too many errands to run in too little time, so I excused myself as Hutchinson asked Martin what his wife had meant by “little scheme.” I almost turned back when I heard Martin say, “Detective, let me tell you about the crime I almost committed.”

seventy-seven

If my mother had
ordered a perfect spring day for her wedding, it could have been only slightly more lovely than the one we had. It could have been warmer, but the sky was a pristine robin's-egg blue so clear it made my heart ache, and the most tentative of breezes swayed the daffodils and tulips and redbuds that were all suddenly in full bloom. Goldie met me and Jay in the driveway. Her colorful skirt and rose-pink peasant blouse set off her silver hair, worn now in a loose upsweep. She carried a book of poems.

“You clean up pretty good,” she said. “Turquoise is the perfect color for you. And your hair looks great.” She bent to pet Jay. “And you look absolutely dashing in your sparkly bow tie, young man!”

It felt odd to be going to a wedding without my camera gear, but I wanted to be fully in the moment rather than behind a viewfinder. My colleague Susan Traiger had volunteered to take the photos and send them to me as a wedding gift to Mom and Tony. I checked in with her and Jade Templeton when we arrived. Norm was making
last-minute
adjustments to the chairs and arbor. “Are you okay, Norm? You looked flushed.”

He hugged me and laughed. “Did you see the cake?” He steered me to the table. “Isn't it perfect?” It was. Doreen had created the perfect cake for my mother—simple and stunning, a
moderate-sized
two-tiered
affair with delicate
multi-hued
flowers around the edges. “I was a nervous wreck driving it here,” said Norm, drawing me to him with one arm. “I would have died if it had been spoiled.” He let go of me and slipped his arm through Goldie's. “I'm going to steal you away to be sure everything you need is all set.”

Bill was talking to the two cooks he had hired to prepare the finger foods, but broke away to hug me. “You look great, Sis! You should dress up more often.” I thought maybe Bill should help with more weddings, it put him in such a good mood.

“I'll second that.” The voice came from behind me and I turned. My heart did a little pirouette when Tom smiled at me. I had never seen him in a tux before, and rarely in a suit, and although I still preferred him in jeans and chambray, the formal duds looked good. Our eyes met and held, and something warm and fearless spilled in waves through me. Tom made an almost imperceptible nod and we moved into one another's arms. He whispered, “You promised you weren't going to cry at this wedding, remember?” We held another moment and I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent and resisting the urge to rip off his clothes.

When we let go, Tom gave me an “I know what you're thinking” wink and I smiled and changed tracks. “Did Martin have anything interesting to say after I left the hospital?”

“Summer and Ray had run a con on Martin when he was in Reno several years ago, just before they were scared into hiding. They never followed through, but Summer still had the photos, and when Martin showed up on her local radar, she went after him.”

“And she got him to help her set up an insurance scam?”

“That was the plan. She went home that Friday night, supposedly to stay there and take care of the animals on the farm.”

“That explains why Evan didn't question her absence that night,” I said.

“Right. She came back with a rented stock trailer and Hugo, the Bouvier, and used him to open the gate and drive the sheep.”

I thought back to Summer's
near-hysteria
the morning the sheep went missing. “She missed her calling as an actress, that's for sure.”

Tom agreed and continued. “So Summer called the police and reported the sheep missing, and Martin was supposed to push the paperwork through. Summer threatened to take her photos of their little encounter to the press if he didn't.” Tom chuckled. “I almost felt sorry for the guy. Anyway, the sheep were insured for more than their market value, so she would have collected about eight grand.” He paused. “That wouldn't have helped Evan much, but I suppose it was a start.”

I thought about the note Summer had left Evan. “I don't think it had anything to do with Evan's debt,” I said. “I think she was planning to leave, had been planning it for a while.”

Tom nodded.

“Let's talk more later, okay? It's all rather depressing, and I don't want anything to spoil these few hours.” I excused myself to help my mother, and Tom said he would get the dogs and meet me behind the arbor just before the ceremony.

My job, it seemed, was mostly done when I got to Mom's room. She wore a simple pale
sea-green
dress and one of her resident friends, a retired hairdresser, had arranged her hair in a soft and simple style. I unboxed her bouquet, a simple mix of lavender, pink roses, and baby's breath. I delivered her to a beaming Tony Marconi and stepped into the solarium.

By the time I got back to the solarium, most of the forty chairs were occupied by family and a few friends plus Shadetree residents and staff. I found Tom and the dogs waiting behind the arbor as promised. Jay and Drake knew something special was afoot, and they pranced and grinned as if to say, “If our people are happy, we're happy!” Tom put an arm around my shoulder and I leaned into him for a moment.

The ceremony was simple and elegant, and it was all I could do to stick to my
no-crying
promise. Two of Mom's Shadetree friends provided the music, all popular songs from the fifties and sixties arranged for flute and guitar. The bride and groom came in holding hands, and I couldn't remember ever seeing a happier pair. Tom and Drake stood beside Tony, and Jay and I stood with my mother.

Goldie had been certified as a secular celebrant since Indiana legalized secular weddings in
twenty-fourteen
and she made the ceremony magical. Mom and Tony had written straightforward vows, and Goldie spoke briefly, her theme being “it's never too late for love.”
I hope not.
When it came time for the rings—a lovely matched pair of handmade gold bands—I expected Mom to hand her bouquet to me. Instead, she said, “Jay,” and he stepped around me, took the bouquet, and sat down to wait as if they'd rehearsed. When Goldie pronounced them “spouse and spouse,” a cheer rose from the guests and we all turned toward them. Norm and Bill were holding hands in the front row, and seemed to have their roles reversed—Norm was beaming while my brother wiped his eyes.

As Mom and Tony made their way through their friends, stopping to hug and shake hands, my peripheral vision caught movement in the hall just outside the arched doorway. Something large and moving fast. But when I turned to see, there was nothing.

Jade Templeton appeared in front of me and grabbed me in a
rib-cracking
hug. “Who would have thought?” When she finally stopped rocking me and stepped back, her mascara was smudged into the smile lines around her eyes. “Your mama has come a long way in the past year. I'm so happy we've been part of her journey.”

I started to thank her for standing by the lovers when Tony's former
son-in
-law tried to ruin it all a few months earlier, but Tom appeared beside me with the dogs. He gave Jade a little hug and turned to me. “It's cool enough outside. I'm going to put the boys in the car. It's too crowded in here and you know they'll wind up mooching.”

“No no no!” said Jade. “Put them in my office. Percy's in there. They'll be fine.” I should have known she had brought her Poodle with her.

I didn't need to tag along, and my throbbing ankle begged me not to, but I wanted to see if whatever I thought I'd seen in the hallway was still there. It wasn't. Still, I had an unsettled feeling, and it ballooned when Jay dropped his nose to the carpet and growled. I stopped and looked one way, then the other, but nothing seemed out of place. Tom turned toward me from the office door and said, “What's up?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing.” I closed the door behind us and pulled Tom to me for a long kiss, the kind I could get lost in, the kind that turns minutes to lifetimes. I barely even noticed the three dogs trying to squeeze between us. When we came up for air, I started to speak but Tom laid a finger on my lips and said, “Not now,” and I nodded.

The party was in full swing when we got back, and Norm rushed over. “It's perfect, isn't it?” We agreed. “I'm thinking we'll cut the cake in about ten minutes, before people start to fade. What do you think?”

“Sounds good,” I said, scanning the room full of laughing, dancing, chattering people, “but it looks like most of them will be good for a bit longer. Let them enjoy themselves.”

Norm hurried off to help infirm hands carry plates of finger food to tables and whatever other
host-like
things needed doing, and Tom went to get us some punch. I thought I heard Jay bark, which he rarely did, and looked past the doorway and hall to Jade's office door. All seemed quiet. I turned back toward the gathered guests, delighted that everything had gone so well. Mom and Tony were in the center of the main crowd, framed by the arbor thirty feet across the room. I limped toward them.

And so it was that for the second time in four days I had my back to the source when the screaming started.