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  The phone started beeping and I replaced the receiver. My hands were shaking, again.

  Yes, you are so right. I definitely need a vacation.

  A courier came through the front door, whistling. “Someone have a pick up going to Waynesburg?”

  In an automatic response, I pointed.

  The … kid—maybe twenty-two at most—handed me a clipboard, and snatched the package. “Sign line two, please.”

  I did, but would never be able to swear it was my name.

  “Yup. Later.” And he was gone, again.

  Rick wandered back to his cubicle. “And the wait begins.”

  After the others returned to their desks, Declan and Wyatt remained, watching me.

  “What?”

  Wyatt shifted. “You didn’t recognize the voice?”

  Here we go. “If I had, do you think I would keep it a secret?”

  Declan pooched out his lips, but didn’t speak.

  “Do you have any idea what today is supposed to represent?”

  My eyes closed while I tried to control a snap in my temper. “Did it sound like I knew what he meant?”

  Wyatt straightened in his chair, and opened his mouth. Declan, a man wiser than his age, laid a hand on his boss’s arm, effectively cutting off the man’s retort.

  “Maggie, I know this is stressful,” Declan began, in that deep soothing Jamaican-laced voice. “But if you could take some time and just think on it some? Just think about it. Maybe a … maybe it’s something you’ve just tucked away in some back corner?”

  “I’ve—”

  His hand moved. “Not done. I know, we all know, you’ve been under a threat from this guy for a while. We all want you free of him, but you’re the key. You’re what’s driving him. So…. You think about it. Okay? Let us worry about the murder side of things. You concentrate on remembering this guy. Who he is. How you know him. Okay?”

  I nodded.

  Declan was definitely a soother, even though in reality he was applying more pressure.

  “Okay. I can’t say to take your time because we need to figure this out.”

  “Hah. You do understand that although your approach is less aggravating than his, you’re still wanting the same information.”

  “Not exactly. I didn’t ask you questions. I asked you to try to remember.” He looked at Wyatt. “The Chief is an action-man; he tends to be more aggressive.” Declan made to rise. “We good?”

  For pity’s sake. What was I supposed to say to that? “Sure.”

  “Good. Chief?”

  Wyatt nodded, still focused on my face.

  Why? I didn’t know anything.

  But I do, don’t I? I must. This crazy person is fixated on me. Knows me. From when? From where? Thinks we share some special day, some special moment.

  CRIPES!

  Head in my hands, I tried to concentrate on the voice we’d all heard. Nothing moved. The light bulb wasn’t turned off, it needed replacing.

  “Maggie?”

  Wyatt’s voice was soft.

  I peeked at him with one eye, but otherwise didn’t move. “Please, don’t start. HMM, okay?”

  His hands went up. “Will you let me take you to lunch?”

  Touched, I raised my head. “Lunch?”

  “It’s almost noon.”

  “Only noon? Crud.”

  There was a slight upward tilt to his mouth. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “Um, a yes. I’d love to go to lunch with you.”

  “I have some news to discuss while we eat.”

  My jaw dropped. Crapola. His follow up appointment. “Oh, Wyatt—”

  “Hush. It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  I grabbed my purse and let him guide me out to his Jeep and strap me in. I waited until he was settled. “Will you let me apologize?”

  “For what?”

  “For not asking how your appointment went?”

  “No, you can’t. There’s no need.”

  Huh. Okay.

  Annetta’s was crowded, more so than usual. We had to wait several minutes for a free booth, and we ordered quickly.

  “New girl.”

  “Yeah. Looks like.”

  “Argh.”

  “What?”

  “I hate feeling like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “I feel like I’ve done something to offend you—even though you say I didn’t. I still feel like it.”

  He spread his hands, and shrugged. “They’re your feelings. I can’t control that.”

  I gave my head a shake. He was right. It was my problem. “So, what did Doc Weston have to say?”

  “He found out it wasn’t MRSA, as he feared, but the infection was widespread. Probably had been raging for a while and I hadn’t noticed. With this latest round of antibiotics, and his cleaning of the wounds, he’s pretty sure all the infection has been routed. Now my body can heal properly and faster.”

  I grabbed hold of his hands, smiling. “That is such good news.”

  “And, the kicker is, I go back in another week. If everything still looks good,” he grinned, “he’ll put me back on regular duty.”

  My WHOOP! had a few patrons rubber-necking to see what the fuss was about, but I didn’t care. I was getting my whole man back. “I love you, Wyatt McHenry Madison.”

  “And I love you, Mag…. Do you want me to say them all?”

  I laughed. “No, it’ll take too long. Lean over here and kiss me, you hunk.”

  But he didn’t; instead, just as our waitress came to the table with our food, he moved closer and bumped his nose against mine back and forth.

  She was blushing brightly, but smiling as we resettled in our seats so she could set the dishes down. “Can I get y’all anything else?”

  I had to look at her name tag again. “No thanks, Tammy.”

  She bobbed a little curtsy and left.

  Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. “Guess we’re royalty.”

  I laughed and dug in. Stress, or maybe the release of some old stuff, had given me an appetite.

  “Just so you know.”

  Uh oh. I stopped chewing.

  “I’m supremely pissed by those pictures.”

  Um, DUH! “You and me, both.”

  “We’re going to find this guy, babe. I promise you.”

  “I know we are. And we’ve got a great crew working with us. It’s going to happen. And I just have this feeling it’s going to be soon.”

  Chapter 23

  … WEDNESDAY…

  * * *

  … September 2nd…

  * * *

  DURING A RARE lull in the office activity, I got out my wedding notebook, and turned to the To Do List. My personal one.

  I’d checked off a few of the items just in the past week. So many small details no one even thinks about, but when a major part of the event can’t take place until that particular iota of info is taken care of, it becomes enormously important.

  Getting my hair cut wasn’t one of those, but I had to get this off the list.

  No. Nothing radical, Wyatt would murder me, and not in my sleep. No, just a trim, a little styling, a fluff. Nothing complicated.

  I dialed.

  “Plain Jane’s Beauty Parlor. How can I help you?”

  “Hi. Is Miss Jane free?”

  “Yes, she is. One moment.”

  “Thanks.”

  Several seconds later, “This is Jane. How may I help you?”

  “Hello. This is Maggie—”

  “Oh, I wondered when I’d be hearing from you. The bride herself! What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to make an appointment. For the afternoon of the 12th, if possible.”

  There was a heavy pause. “You’re not wanting to cut off all that—?”

  “No! Um, no. I just need the ends trimmed. Maybe a bit of shaping?”

  She chuckled. “All right. I’m sure we can get you fixed up. In fact, I know we can. Let me check the log.”

  “Pl
ease? I’d like you to do it. The other girls are great, but they don’t have your magic fingers.”

  “Oh, you do flatter … but between you-’n’-me, they really are magic. How about 3:30, on the 12th?”

  “Perfect. Thank you, Miss Jane.”

  “Always welcome, Miss Maggie.”

  ON THE WAY home, I talked Wyatt into stopping at Charm’s Confectionary.

  I went in by myself. Never a good idea. The aroma alone was enough to make me salivate. “I should never have come in here on an empty stomach. I want them all. Right now.”

  Charm laughed. “Yeah. We get that a lot. If you don’t have anything specific in mind, I could just choose a few of our most popular varieties of chocolate, and make a cute little favor. How many did you say you needed?”

  “Um, fifty guests have RSVP’d, and then there are the attendants, our parents, my boys, the crew…. Do you think seventy-five would be enough?”

  “Might be cutting it a bit close. Why not an even hundred?”

  “Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t want anyone to go without.”

  “Heaven forbid. Especially if they knew they were chocolates from Charm’s.”

  “Why thank you, Ma’am.”

  “At the very least, I’ll get to eat however many are left.”

  Charm was smiling as she wrote up my order. “Easy peasy. We’ll have these done in plenty of time.”

  “Great. Thanks. Oh, should I pick them up—uh—”

  “I’d coordinate the pickup with whoever is setting up your reception tables.”

  “That would be smart, but as it’s me, it might be good to set it up now. The night before—Friday the 18th—I’ll come by after work.”

  “You’re working the day before your wedding?”

  “Um, yeah. Why?”

  A shy shrug. “No reason. Just never before had a bride in here who did. Anyway. I’ll mark my calendar.”

  “Thank you so much, Charm.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for the business.” She handed me a small bag. “Share them.”

  “You betcha. Best tasting candy west of Mossy Creek.”

  Her laughter chased me out to the Jeep, and Wyatt.

  I strapped myself in as he pulled onto Market Street. “You could have come in, you know?”

  “I know. Just figured I’d be in the way.”

  “Hah! More like, you’d’ve bought out the place.”

  A sheepish smile. “That was a considering factor.”

  “I almost did it for you.”

  “See!”

  I held up the bag. “She gave me samples.”

  “Excellent. And look. I love how she’s got a little charm on a chain on the bag. Talk about going all out.”

  DISHES WERE STACKED, dishwasher turned on, and I headed for the living room where Harley was wrestling with Wyatt. I watched for a while, until Wyatt fell victim to a furious face licking.

  It was great to see him moving more freely, and without pain.

  “All right, Harley. You win. That’s enough.” He got slowly to his feet, and came to join me on the couch—leaning in for a big smooch.

  “Eeuww.” I was giggling—cuz you know, I love his kisses, no matter what’s.… Well, anyway…. “You’ve got dog spit all over your face. How dare you kiss me with that mouth?”

  He laughed and nuzzled my neck (which I also love). “What’s up, my sweet?”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Um. I do have something to run by you.”

  “Do tell.” He stopped. “Looks serious. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted you to know I have a hair appointment at Plain Jane’s.”

  He studied me a few moments. “Babe, it’s your hair. I love the length, you know that, and all that gorgeous silk sliding over me while…. But, if you feel the need to cut it, I’ll learn to live with it. Or, without it, more accurately.”

  “I didn’t say what I was going to have done.”

  “You wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

  He knows me pretty well. “I’m not getting my head shaved.”

  “Good thing.” Teeth flashed. “I love you, and all that encompasses you. You don’t need my permission—which I know isn’t what this is. I would feel the same way about you even if you were bald.”

  My eyes rolled. “Just wanted you to know. You might not even notice much of a difference.”

  “You wound me, madam. Deeply.” A hand on his heart. “I’d notice.”

  I smiled. “Okay.”

  “When is this significant event taking place, again?”

  “The Saturday before the wedding.”

  “Good. We have time.”

  “For what?”

  He reached over and un-banded my ponytail. Hair cascaded around me. He smiled his sexy smile. “Much better. I feel the need to embrace your glorious strands.”

  I giggled. “You’re crazy.”

  “And you love me.”

  I grinned. “I do, indeed.”

  “Let me go wash this dog spit off so I can kiss you proper, woman.”

  My laughter followed him down the hall.

  Chapter 24

  … THURSDAY…

  * * *

  … September 3rd…

  * * *

  DECLAN STARTED OFF the meeting with his report on what happened during the lock changing event the day before.

  “The appointment was set up for 1 PM, but the locksmith owner, a Mr. John Sutton, couldn’t get there until 4 pm. I picked up Mrs. Grayson from her house at 3:30 PM. She was pale and shaky. Though she’d been in the store with me last week, she was still scared and nervous about being inside again.

  “Once at the store, we sat in the parking lot to wait until Mr. Sutton arrived. We both escorted her inside. I had an ammonia capsule in my pocket, because you just never know.” He held up a clear evidence bag. “Mr. Sutton examined the lock with the broken key, and extracted this specimen. He surmised that it was a brand new key. In his opinion, the appointment was kept by both parties, and the locks were changed. Best guess (not that I asked him for one) was that someone surprised Mr. Grayson as he was locking up to leave.

  “Mrs. Grayson started crying then.”

  I can imagine.

  “So, while Mr. Sutton was replacing the locks, she and I went into the showroom. We had before, and she’d found a few more missing items. This time, she noticed even more items missing, including that piece the boys found in the mud. She told me to relay to you that she would come by to identify the cherub, but would not be returning that particular piece to her inventory.”

  I shouldn’t think so.

  “Also, chief.”

  “Yes?”

  “Sutton was wearing a uniform shirt. The buttons are an exact match to the one you found.”

  “Is that so?”

  A nod. “Once the locks were changed, and keys handed over, Mr. Sutton left, and Mrs. Grayson was returned to her home.”

  “Excellent. And we have a lead to pursue. Becca, Court, take a ride to the locksmith shop in the morning and talk to the boss man. Find out who was supposed to work that job, and confirm whether he actually did it. Then make a point to talk to that person. Also, find out if they have a service that cleans their uniforms. If so, go drop in on them. See if anyone turned in a shirt with a button missing.”

  “Roger that, boss.”

  Progress—of sorts.

  Chapter 25

  … FRIDAY…

  * * *

  … September 4th…

  * * *

  AFTER LUNCH, AND upon the return of Becca and Court, they filled us in on their interview with John Sutton, owner of the locksmith shop (Sutton’s Locksmithing. Serving all of Jensen City, Jasper, Trinity, Arlington, and Mossy Creek.)

  “When we arrived, Mr. Sutton ushered us into to his office. He wondered if Mrs. Grayson had a complaint about her new locks, and how he could help us.”

  “He e
mploys ten locksmiths, and they each have a territory, of sorts. Sometimes they overlap. Sometimes they swap jobs, depending.

  “Tom Grayson’s appointment was at 6 PM on August seventh. Were you able to find out who the job was assigned to?”

  “Yes. A man named Wayde Fulkerson was scheduled. According to the logbook, he completed the job, and had Mr. Grayson sign the bill before he left.”

  “Is there a time-stamp?”

  “Wayde left for the job at 5:45 and signed back in at 6:45. John said that was pretty routine. If the job is long distance, over twenty miles, the employees are required to return to the office and sign the log, once they’ve completed the job.”

  “So, as far as you’re aware, he changed the locks, and came back here to log in.”

  “You mentioned that sometimes they trade jobs.”

  “We asked him if it were a possibility that Wayde had traded his job with another locksmith. Mr. Sutton said no. If he had, there would be a notation in the log, and he wouldn’t have signed back in. Whoever he traded with would have signed the log.”

  “Were you able to talk to Mr. Fulkerson?”

  “He’s on vacation out west somewhere, but will be back in the office Monday morning.”

  “Okay. Make sure there’s a follow up visit.”

  “Will do.”

  “We can verify that the buttons on his shirt match the one in evidence. Yeah, we know Declan already said that. But we took it one step further, and asked if he and his employees used a laundry service for the uniforms.”

  “And the answer was?”

  “They do. Sunshine Services, over on Claremont Avenue, in Jameson City.”

  “Excellent. Why don’t you pay them a visit today?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  LATER THAT EVENING, Annetta and Wally came by to talk about catering our wedding. It was late for visiting, about quarter to eleven.

  “Sorry we couldn’t get here any sooner. Some people just love coming in fifteen minutes before closing and lingering over their meal.”