Chapter Eighteen

I found a clean pair of jeans and a sweater, a clean set of underwear, and my makeup bag on the shelf above the toilet in the bathroom. I showered and wrapped myself in a towel, and padded back into the guest room to check the clock. It was just after nine, so I had a few minutes to spare. I threw myself backwards onto the bed and lay there in my thinking position for a while. I hadn't entirely gotten used to the whole pregnancy thing yet, but at least I wasn't bursting into tears every time I thought about it. That was progress, right? And besides, maybe being pregnant wasn't so bad. I had been in worse situations, and they'd all turned out fine.

I brought my hands to my stomach and let them rest there. Huh. I didn't feel pregnant. And yet the whole concept of a baby being in there my heart do that weird flipfloppy thing. Probably it didn't even look like a baby yet. I had gotten Mary Alice a box of Sea Monkeys for Christmas. Maybe it looked like that. Yeah, that's better. Sea Monkeys weren't so scary.

I dressed in the sweater and jeans, blasted my hair dry and threw it up in a ponytail. Then I did the required minimum on the makeup thing and looked around for a pair of shoes. I checked the bathroom and guest bedroom, and came up empty except for the four-inch black heels I'd worn to the rehearsal dinner. Crap. I checked Morelli's bedroom and found one running shoe in the closet. The mate was in the office in Bob's bed, half of the upper torn from the sole. It would have to do. I scrubbed it in the kitchen sink and tossed it in the dryer for a few minutes. Then I wrapped some duct tape around the shoe to hold it together, grabbed my bag off the sideboard, and stepped outside.

I looked around for a car and did a full on head slap. Joe was gone in the SUV, and the Buick was in the lot at my apartment. And I had to be at the inn in less than an hour. I went into Morelli's kitchen and called my mother.

"Where are you? You're not on your way. You're going to be late."

"I'm at Joe's," I told her. "And I need a ride. He had to go out or a few minutes, and I don't have a car."

My mother sucked in some air and agreed to pick me up on her way. I stepped outside again and waited for her on the stoop. A black SUV was idling at the far end of the street. I couldn't tell if it was one of Ranger's men or not, but my gut was telling me it was. I gave a small finger wave in the direction of the SUV and the lights flashed once. My mother pulled up to the curb and waited while I locked the front door. I angled into the car and watched in the side mirror as the SUV pulled out behind us.

An hour and a half later, I had stuffed myself into the big blue velvet dress. It was tight, but at least it zipped in the back. I figured as long as I didn't sit down or bend over or breath, the chances were good it wouldn't rip completely apart. I straightened the bodice, stepped into a pair of matching shoes, and met my mother in the hallway.

"There you are," she said. "Where's Joe?"

I shrugged. "I haven't seen him since he left this morning."

My mother's face paled and her eyes grew large. "We're starting in half an hour and the best man's missing, Albert's breaking out in a sweat, and two of the buttons have fallen off Valerie's dress."

"I'll call Joe," I said to keep her from hyperventilating. "You help Valerie."

I called Joe from a telephone in the lobby and was sent straight to voicemail. I waited for the tone and left him a message:

"If you're not here in five minutes, I'm calling your grandmother and telling her you skipped out on a wedding."

I put the phone down and looked around. It was bedlam all over. I pulled on my windbreaker and went back to check on Valerie. My mother was sewing one of the buttons on the back of Valerie's dress. She looked up at met expectantly.

"I can't get Joe on his cell phone. Probably he's on his way." Probably he's halfway to Boston by now. "I'm going to stand outside and wait for him."

Joe's SUV pulled into the lot a few minutes later and I threw him a what took you so long look as he trudged up the walk. He shrugged in response and stopped to eyeball me. A smile melted across his lips.

"You clean up well," he said.

I smiled. He wasn't looking too bad, himself. I'd known Morelli almost my whole life, but this was the first time his hair looked tame. He was clean-shaven and dressed in a black suit with a silver-gray tie, which at the moment was lopsided.

"Here," I said. "Let me help you with that."

"Thanks."

I smoothed his tie and straightened the lines of his lapel. When I was done, I looked up and caught his eyes traveling down the top of my dress. He cut his eyes to mine and gave a wolf grin.

"Sorry," Morelli said. "Bad habit."

I rolled my eyes and turned back toward the church. Morelli caught my hand as I turned to go. "Just a minute," he said. "I really do need to talk to you."

"We're late!"

"We're not that late. And it's important."

"It's freezing out here!"

"We need to do this," he said. "Now."

He took me by the arm and led me into the courtyard by the side of the inn. There were patches of snow covering the ground, and a thin layer of ice floating along the surface of the water in the fountain. We took a seat on one of the benches facing the street and Morelli leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He was nervous. That was a bad sign. Morelli doesn't often get nervous. Most of the time he gets annoyed. And sometimes he gets angry. Morelli nervous sent my heart into overdrive and that sick feeling in my gut creep back up into my throat.

"Joe?"

Morelli was looking at the ground, his face all hard angles and worry lines. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned toward me. "Are you pregnant?"

I blinked a couple times and thought about the answer. I guess that wasn't the response Morelli wanted, because all of a sudden he ran a hand down his face and said, "Christ."

I swallowed back the goose egg-size lump in my throat. "How did you-"

"Bruce Campbell owns a drug store in Hamilton Township. He called me a couple days ago wanting to know why my girlfriend was stealing pregnancy tests. I thought he was out of his mind." Morelli paused and looked over at me. "You really steal the tests?"

I nodded, and Morelli laughed. It was humorless and dry. Not so much a nervous laugh as an I'm scared shitless one.

"Jesus Christ." Morelli gave his head a shake. "How did this happen? We were careful. We were beyond careful."

I started to say something, but my voice clammed up. Besides, what was I going to say?

"I know you don't want to get married," Morelli said. "I don't think either of us are ready for that yet. But having a kid's not so bad, right? We'll work something out."

There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of my gut. I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know what was going on between Ranger and me. And I didn't know what was going to happen with the Sea Monkey. But that was my problem, not Morelli's.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and I realized I was starting to cry. Jeez, what's with the crying? I was sick of crying. And I was sick of feeling guilty. I just wanted that horrible feeling in my gut to go away. "Stephanie?"

I wiped away a couple tears with the palm of my hand and sucked in some air.

Then I shook my head and said, "It's not yours."

Morelli swallowed and loosened the tie at his neck. His features were hardened and tense. I reached out to him, and he backed away. His cell phone rang at his hip, and he took a few deep breaths before checking the readout.

"I have to take this," he said. Then he stood up and cursed, and took off in long strides back toward the lot.

I sank back onto the bench and rested my head in my hands. My chest was tight and aching. I was trying to breathe and not having any luck at it. It was the dress. It was too tight. I felt someone on the bench next to me, and a hand slid under the windbreaker and unzipped the dress. I took in a huge gulp of air and turned my head to the side, and looked at Ranger. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. His mouth was set grim.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

Ranger let out a sigh. "I heard about Warner," he said.

I motioned for him to zip me back up and straightened. "You flew three hours on

Christmas morning because you heard about Warner?"

Ranger let out a sigh. "No," he said. "Cal is guarding Warner. I came to talk to you."

"You could've called."

"I could have," Ranger conceded.

We were both quiet for a long time, except for a few sniffles on my end. I wiped under one eye and came back with a black finger from where my mascara had rubbed off. Probably I looked pretty shitty, but I was having trouble caring about that at this point. I was feeling pretty shitty, too.

Ranger was looking towards the road. I couldn't tell if he was surveying the area or avoiding me. Probably it was a mixture of both. "We need to talk," he said.

"Here?" I asked him. "Now?"

Ranger shook his head. "No, not here. I need to get back to Miami, and you need to get back to the wedding." Ranger reached in his pocket and pulled out my cell phone and key fob. "I don't want you staying in your apartment until this thing with Warner is resolved. You can stay in my apartment if you want, or somewhere you feel safe."

He met my eyes with a loaded stare. Mental head slap. He knew I had been at Morelli's last night. I nodded and reached for the key fob and cell phone, and dropped both in my windbreaker pocket.

"Thanks," I said. Ranger nodded. Then I looked up at him and said, "Morelli knows."

I felt my eyes well up with tears again and Ranger's expression softened just a little. He put his arm around and pulled me close, and I sunk into him, sobbing like an idiot. Ranger wrapped his arms around me tightly and brushed his lips across my temple.

I hiccupped back a few sobs and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my windbreaker. Ranger brushed the hair away from my forehead and wiped the tears from my eyes. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged and then shook my head. "No," I said. "But I can have a breakdown later. I have to get back inside."

Ranger nodded and guided me toward the front of the inn. "Tank's in charge. He can take you back to your apartment to get your things after the reception if you need a ride, and then back to Rangeman. Let him know if you need to go out while I'm away."

"Do you really think all this is necessary?" I asked him.

Ranger looked at me, but didn't say anything. Then he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. "Be careful," he said, and I watched as he walked back to the black truck parked at the curb and made a U-turn back down the street.

My mother was waiting for me when I went back inside.

"Where's Joe?" she wanted to know. "And what's the matter? You've been crying."

I shook my head. "Joe's not coming. Sally has the rings. He can stand in."

I brushed past her before she could ask any more questions and ducked into one of the dressing rooms. It was crowded with amp and instrument cases, boxes for the decorations, and flower stands. I shrugged out of my windbreaker and ran some water in the sink, and began blotting my eyes with a paper towel. I caught a glimmer of something in the sink. It was the initial charm that Morelli had given me for Christmas. It had fallen off my bracelet. I scooped it out of the water and looked at it for a moment, and was hit with a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Think, I told myself. Where had I seen that before?

Then it hit me. I'd seen a charm similar to that on the floor at the slaughterhouse, and I was pretty sure I'd seen it in one of the pictures of Elizabeth Kelly. I reached into the pocket of the windbreaker and felt around, and came out with a tiny silver E. I couldn't be sure that it was the same one I'd seen on Elizabeth Kelly, but my gut was telling me it was.

There was a knock on the door. I turned around and saw Bill Forbes in the doorway. He was wheeling in a large speaker case on a dolly.

"I'm sorry," Forbes said. "I didn't think anyone was in here."

"That's okay," I said. "I was just freshening up."

Forbes nodded. He lowered the case onto the floor and moved back to the door.

"Wait," I said. "There's something I want to ask you. What can you tell me about this?"

I held out my hand. Forbes picked up the charm and looked at it, then shrugged and placed it back in my palm.

"I found that on the floor outside your office," I told him. "I think it might belong to one of the murder victims."

Forbes shut the door and looked at me for a moment. "Grayson Warner didn't have access to that office," he said.

"No, but James Springs did."

Forbes lifted an eyebrow. "I told you, Jimmy didn't have anything to do with it."

My gut was doing somersaults. Something wasn't right. Something was very, very wrong. "How do you know that?"

"Because Jimmy's dead," Forbes said. I lunged for the door and he caught me around the waist, pinning my arms to my sides. I opened my mouth to scream and felt the cold of metal pressed up my shoulder. Then there was a loud pop and everything went dark.