The Wedding Caper

  “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this,” I explained. “And I just need to know. The power outage—it was just a coincidence, right? Something you took advantage of?”

  Richard rubbed at his temples. “It wasn’t like that. Not at first, anyway. I’d been awake all night, tossing and turning, trying to figure out what to do. I got out of bed to sign on the Internet around two-thirty in the morning. I’d only been online about ten minutes when the power went down. I was frustrated, Annie, and so scared. I wanted to fix things, to make everything better for Judy.”

  “I understand.”

  “I got into my car and drove around, just trying to reason things out with God. Remember, I told you once I have a lot of head knowledge, but my faith is… lacking.”

  My nod must’ve given him the courage to continue. And if anyone understood reasoning things out with God, I did.

  “The whole town was darker than I’d ever seen it, and that only made my mood even—”

  “Darker?”

  “Yes. I found myself in the back parking lot of the bank, just staring off into space. Everything was black. And I knew the cameras would be down.”

  “You also knew Janetta Mullins had made a large cash deposit.”

  Richard’s brow wrinkled, and his gaze shifted to his hands, which now clutched the bag. “Yes. I’d overheard one of the tellers talking to her on the phone just before we closed on Monday afternoon. I could tell they were talking about a cash deposit, because the teller tried to encourage her to wait till the morning and come in person. But I knew in my gut she would drop it off that night to get it over with.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Richard shook his head. “I’ve been in this business a long time. When people—especially women—are carrying around a lot of cash like that, they get nervous. They want to get it deposited quickly. Otherwise, they worry that it might be—”

  “Stolen?”

  He sighed. “Anyway, I sat there in my car, staring at the back of the bank, just looking at that deposit box, and thinking about how the cameras were down.” He shook his head. “And I kept thinking about that treatment center. I knew how much money it would take to get Judy in the door. And I knew our insurance wouldn’t cover it—at least not much of it. At some point along the way, I think I just snapped. I jumped out of the car and went into the bank. I didn’t have a flashlight. I didn’t have anything. I was just stumbling around in the dark.”

  It’s always darkest before the dawn. Sheila’s words rang out once again. Richard had reached his lowest point as he faced the darkness alone that night. His faith had cratered, and doubt had propelled him to do the unthinkable. In his case, he had given up on the dawn altogether.

  I tried to think of something to say, but no words would come. I focused my attentions on the puppy in my lap, scratching her behind the ears as I dissected everything Richard had said. And done.

  He turned to face me, the level of his voice escalating in both speed and intensity.

  “I took the money, Annie. I left all of the other deposits there, but I took the cash, bag and all. I left the bank, went back home, and tried to sleep. But I couldn’t. I felt sick inside. Sick. As badly as I wanted to see Judy get the help she needed, I couldn’t keep it. I couldn’t.” His eyes grew wild as he continued. “This is the crazy part. I tried to return it. First thing in the morning. Showed up at the bank before anyone else. I even beat Nikki there, which was a first. I was going to put it right back where I found it.”

  “I think I’d already figured out that part too.”

  He nodded. “I managed to get the money back inside the bank, but the electricity came back on just as I arrived. That meant the cameras kicked on. I tried to figure out what to do, but Warren showed up right after that and everyone went to work, like nothing had happened. Of course, they didn’t know anything had. But I was terrified all day. Crazy thing is, no one even realized we were short the $25,000 until Janetta Mullins called that afternoon to make sure the deposit had been credited to her account.”

  “You could have told them right then and there. They would have understood.”

  He shook his head, eyes closed. “No. I reached a point where there was no turning back, especially after the police got involved.”

  As the word ‘police’ was spoken, I remembered what I’d asked Warren to do, and wondered if he’d already contacted O’Henry.

  Mere seconds later, the piercing wail of a siren broke the stillness and I looked up to discover flashing lights in the rearview mirror. Sasha awoke with a start, and leapt into the backseat to see out the rear window. The barking began the moment she laid eyes on the patrol car. I’m not sure what unnerved me more—her incessant yapping, or the look of sheer terror in Richard’s eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I looked back—beyond Richard’s dazed expression—to the Clark County Sheriff’s squad car in the driveway behind us. O’Henry’s voice rang out over the loudspeaker, instructing us to stay put, not to move a muscle. I couldn’t quite figure out what to do about Sasha, who continued to bark uncontrollably. I whistled for her to join me in the front seat, and she bounded over into my lap, tail going to town.

  Somehow, in spite of the chaos, I managed to reach over and slip my hand into Richard’s for a tight squeeze.

  “What am I going to do, Annie?” he whispered.

  I spoke the only words that came to mind. “The right thing.”

  He nodded and we sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. . .though probably only a minute or two, in reality. During that time, two other patrol cars arrived, lining the long driveway almost to the street. As the officers approached from behind, I took advantage of the moment to give Richard one last bit of encouragement. My words were rushed, but framed in love.

  “This will be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to face, next to losing Judy,” I spoke softly, “but you can do this. God will redeem this thing and turn it around for His glory if you let Him.”

  A silent nod from Richard would have to suffice. The police swarmed the car like flies on a slice of watermelon. Sasha never stopped barking for a second, which only set my nerves on edge all the more. Seconds later, I found myself in the cold morning air, leaning against a Clark County Sheriff’s Office patrol car, being questioned by a one of the officers. Thankfully, I’d managed to calm my canine crime-fighter down. She rested in my arms as I talked. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Richard as he visited quietly with O’Henry and I whispered a silent prayer for courage on his part.

  Just then, Warren’s car pulled up. Directly behind him, came Sheila. The officer, sensing my sudden loss of attention, said he’d get back with me later, if he had additional questions.

  Warren bounded from the driver’s seat. “Annie! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Unless you count the part where my heart is broken for the man now seated in the back seat of the patrol car in handcuffs. I pressed Sasha into my husband’s arms, and he took her, no questions asked.

  Off in the distance, I could see an officer talking with Janetta and Jake. They stood with expressions of shock on their faces all the while.

  Seconds later, Sheila sprinted my way, panting as she arrived. I had to laugh as I saw what she was wearing over her clothes—the plastic cape from our local salon. Silver foil wraps lined the left side of her head. The right side, apparently, would have to wait until another day.

  Sasha took one look at Sheila in that get-up and went bananas. Barked like a maniac. Warren struggled to control her. He also struggled to control his laughter as he looked at Sheila. And who could blame him? She looked, for all the world, like a Martian. On the left side, anyway.

  Sheila either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. She sputtered and spewed like my dad’s old ‘59 Chevy. “I–I was at T–The Liberty Belle having my hair done,” she exclaimed, and I saw all the commotion. First it was O’Henry with his lights on, then the other officers in thei
r patrol cars. Then it was Warren pulling out of the bank like a man possessed. I figured something must’ve happened and came running.”

  She glanced at the patrol car then clamped her hand over her mouth as her gaze fell on Richard Blevins in the back seat. “Oh, Annie.”

  “I know.”

  “Did you… I mean, did you have anything to do with this?”

  Warren nodded as he finally got Sasha calmed down. “She had everything to do with this. She’s a crime-fighting diva, this girl of mine.” He gave me a wink.

  As I looked over at Richard, who sat with tears in his eyes, I had to admit—I didn’t feel like a crime-fighting diva. I felt a bit more like a traitor.

  Then Janetta Mullins sprinted across the lawn and wrapped her arms around me with a squeal of joy. “They told me about the money.” She clasped her hands together like an excited school girl. “Not a penny missing.”

  “Yep, I know.”

  “But oh, Annie… Richard Blevins.” She cast a wistful gaze at the patrol car. “It’s just so… sad. Who would’ve guessed it?”

  “Obviously Annie would have.” Sheila grinned and patted me on the back.

  Janetta looked Sheila’s way with the most curious look on her face. I could see her fighting to control the laughter, which just got Warren tickled all over again.

  “If you ever get tired of editing, maybe you could go into crime-fighting full time.” Sheila carried on, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

  “No thank you. I’d be perfectly content if I never had to track down another suspect as long as I live.”

  Sheila nudged me. “Speaking of suspects—”

  I glanced across the yard to see Jake approaching, now dressed in jeans in a t-shirt. I’d never seen him so focused. He asked O’Henry if he could speak to Richard and the officer agreed. The whole group of us held our collective breath as the young man leaned into the backseat of the patrol car to have his say.

  Lord, please…

  Whatever transpired between the two men happened quietly, without drama.

  Jake stood aright, turned on his heels and walked back toward the house, not a word to anyone else.

  “What do you think he told him?” I asked Janetta.

  “I haven’t got a clue.”

  That word sent a little shiver down my spine. To be perfectly honest, I’d be one happy woman if I never heard the word again. You could remove it from the dictionary, in fact. And you could take my Internet courses and toss them right out the window, too. My crime-fighting days were behind me.

  Janetta and Sheila moved on to talk with a couple of the officers. At that moment, a reporter from the Clark County Gazette arrived and, after an inquisitive stare at Sheila in her beauty shop attire, inquired about an interview with yours truly. O’Henry gave the okay, with the understanding that I couldn’t divulge any information pertinent to the case. With that in mind, I offered up a few carefully selected lines for our local paper. Just the facts, ma’am.

  Just about that time, the patrol car pulled away. Richard kept his head low, not looking at any of us as they headed off toward town. I didn’t blame him. I began to put together a plan for how the fine folks of Clarksborough Community Church could reach out to him. Surely Warren would go along, if only I could find him.

  I’d just turned to look for him when my daughters arrived on the scene.

  Brandi sprinted from her car, face etched with concern. “Mom, what in the world happened?” she asked. “Everyone in town is talking. Something about the bank robbery?”

  “Burglary,” I corrected.

  Candy joined us, grabbing a hold of my hand. “We just need to know if you’re okay. You are, aren’t you?”

  I assured them both that everything was fine, but neither looked convinced. Sheila’s radar went off and she scurried over to join us, patting at the foil on her hair, cheeks flaming.

  “I forgot about these crazy things,” she said sheepishly. “Do you think anyone noticed I came from the beauty shop?”

  My laughter rang out across the lawn. Leave it to Sheila to come up with a question like that. I could read the headline in the Gazette now: MARTIAN LANDS ON CLARKSBOROUGH CATERING PROPERTY. Story on page four.

  Oh, it felt good to laugh. Awfully good.

  Once I calmed down, I told my girls the truth—the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I started by telling them about my Internet courses, and about how I’d suspected their father of stealing the money to pay for their weddings.

  Brandi clamped a hand over her mouth, clearly stunned. “Mom, you’re kidding. You thought Dad took the money?”

  “For us?” Candy chimed in.

  I shrugged. “Hey, I’m on a learning curve. What can I say?” I went on to tell them about the many ups and down of my journey, even the part where I’d tied the dog to the flagpole—all in the hopes of catching the perpetrator.

  Brandi giggled, then sputtered, “This certainly sheds a lot of light on things. So this is why you’ve been acting so strange.”

  “Hey now—” I started.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Candy chimed in. “I thought for a while there you just weren’t interested in our wedding plans, that you were deliberately avoiding us.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I looked at them both with excitement mounting. “Now that this investigation is behind me, I can dive in head-first. Talk to me about flowers. I’m your girl. Tell me about your bridal registry. I’m on board. Share your concerns about reception halls. I can take it.”

  As the girls came alive with their latest wedding stories, I glanced across the yard finally locating Warren. He stood next to Jake, deep in conversation. Sasha lay curled up in his arms, sound asleep. As I called his name, Warren looked up and our eyes met from a distance. Even from so far away, I could read the love written there.

  Epilogue

  I think the four hundred and sixty-three handwritten letters from the fine folks at Clarksborough Community Church must’ve made a difference. Three weeks before Christmas, the judge who’d been assigned to Richard Blevins’s case gave him the lowest possible sentence. Two years in the county jail, with three days credit for every one day served. In essence, he would probably be released about six to nine months, with community service to follow. And we—his friends and family—would be here to welcome him home with open arms when the moment arrived.

  On the morning after the trial, I tried to settle back into my routine. I spent an enjoyable hour soaking in a bubble-filled tub and praying. Mental note: This new almond bath gel is just the ticket. Closest thing to heaven I’ve smelled in years.

  After toweling off, I dressed in a green and red Christmas sweater and my most comfortable pair of jeans. Instead of reading my devotional on the Internet, I opted to sit next to the fireplace with my Bible in hand. I turned to the book of Psalms and browsed the pages. After reading through several verses, I paused as I came across one in chapter sixty-eight that jumped out at me: “God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing.”

  I thought back over the past few months, how the Lord had done just that. He had taken Nikki Rogers and made her a semi-permanent fixture at our family gatherings. My girls had connected with her on such a deep level that she currently found herself a bridesmaid-to-be in two upcoming weddings. The smile on her face had broadened when she learned that Jake Mullins would be the one escorting her down the aisle. Yep. He’d become a regular, too. And Amber, now a bona fide chatterbox, had agreed to welcome guests and hand out programs at both ceremonies. Talk about a transformation!

  I pondered the situation with Janetta Mullins and her children, how they’d been grafted into the Clarksborough Community Church with such ease—how she’d taken over the ministry that provided meals for shut-ins. What a natural she is at that! I thought back to the day she had first arrived in church, a prodigal in need of a home. Surely God had drawn her back—with a little help from Sheila and that lovely singing voice.

  He
leads forth the prisoners with singing…

  I stumbled a bit when I thought about Richard Blevins—currently imprisoned at the county jail. I knew that God would one day set him free, not just from his current situation, but from many losses in his life, and the guilt that surely lingered after the past few months. I contemplated the grace and mercy of a young man like Jake Mullins, who had taken the time to visit with Richard every week, rain or shine.

  Most of all, however, I thought about my own family—how the Lord had invigorated us for the tasks ahead, and how He had given me the courage to release my daughters into the hands of their future husbands. I prayed they would be as happy as Warren and I had been.

  With such contended thoughts in mind, I set about my daily tasks. Now that the investigation was safely behind me, I found myself focusing on the truly exciting things of life, like laundry, dishes and grocery shopping. I met up with Sheila for lunch at the Diner, and had a great chat with Shawna, who’d taken to calling me “honey”—not out of sarcasm but affection. I wasn’t surprised to hear she had reconciled with her family in Philadelphia, not after all of our heart-to-heart chats over the prior weeks, but it did sadden me to know she would be leaving our little town. I would miss her dearly.

  After lunch I returned home to edit a manuscript for a new client—the one I’d agreed to do at a lower cost. I read through it, excited to find little to edit. God had blessed my generosity with his grace.

  The hours passed quickly, quietly. I fully enjoyed every moment. Even Sasha seemed content to rest easily at my feet as I worked. Her behavior over the past few weeks had improved slightly, but I still pondered the veterinarian’s suggestion to get a second dog. Maybe one of these days we’d find Sasha a suitable husband. And why not? We were all in the wedding mindset, anyway.

  That evening I cooked up a delicious chicken recipe Janetta had sent me via e-mail. Warren offered a host of compliments as I dished out his second helping. Even Devin chimed in with some flattering remarks. After dinner, Devin headed off to a friend’s house to watch a movie, and I set about the task of loading the dishwasher.