I'll Be There Page 3
“He’s busy freaking out,” Reuben said.
“I agree. Marriage. Yikes.”
“It’s not—” Conner started.
“He thinks he should shut one door before opening another,” Reuben said, cutting him off.
Pete frowned. “What door? You have an old girlfriend waiting in the wings?”
“Funny. No. Unfinished business,” Conner said.
Pete unwrapped one of his burritos. “Listen, let me tell you about unfinished business. You gotta deal with it or it’ll keep hounding you—”
“Nice, Pete. That’s exactly what he needs,” Reuben said. However, “But, yeah, he’s right.”
“No, he’s not,” Conner said. “Listen, there’s nothing I can do. I’ve made peace with that. This is just a random shadow. I just gotta learn to stop jumping every time it creeps up behind me. “
Jed returned with his bag of food.
“Let’s go,” Conner said, ignoring the roil of hunger.
What he really needed was Liza. Liza, waiting for him. Liza with the way she had of listening, her ability to yank him out of his grief, turn his frustration into hope. She had a faith that he not only envied, but clung to.
It had healed him, really—so much of his fractured past nothing but deep, grooved scars that marked the byways of his walk of faith. She could help purge the image of Gunnar’s grief, the mumbling voices of his own failures, out of his brain, or at least tuck them back safely into the past.
He should have texted more than a feeble ok to her sweet words. He pulled out his phone, unlocked it. He’d turned it off while driving and now found two missed calls, and one had left a message. The first missed call was from his friend Jim Micah. Funny that he should call today, of all days. He hadn’t talked to Micah in, well, a couple years, really. But it didn’t matter. Micah knew him better than anyone.
He should call him back, tell him the good news. Although, he probably should have invited him to the wedding, so yeah, maybe he’d save that call.
The other number took him a second—a long second—to place.
And then, oh...my...
The number he’d never deleted, unable to take that final step.
Justin’s burner phone, the one the NSA hadn’t confiscated.
Conner swallowed, his chest webbed, and headed outside, punching the voicemail code.
Bracing himself.
A woman’s voice, a little shaky, as if she’d been crying. “Um, I hope this is you. I...I’m not sure why you’re telling me you’re getting married. Married? But...I don’t understand, Justin. I thought...anyway. Um. I think they found me, because the house—it’s gone. Someone burned it. And maybe you don’t care anymore, but I’m okay. And I still have it, if you want it. Except...oh, please just call me back.”
The guys had bumped past him as Conner stilled, caught in the entry between the outer and inner doors of the restaurant. Outside, the rain had died to a drizzle.
He listened to the message again.
Same shaky voice, and yes, she’d said Justin.
Except, what was she doing with Justin’s phone?
He glanced out at the truck, then pushed redial.
The voice answered on the first ring. “Is it you?”
“Um...”
“Oh, geez—”
“Wait—it’s Conner. Conner Young. I...um...this is my brother Justin’s number.”
More silence. “I’m sorry. Wrong number—”
“Wait! Please.” He’d raised his voice and got a look from a couple of teenage girls walking in. Cut his voice low. “Who are you?”
An intake of breath.
“Listen.” He cupped his hand over his mouth. “Justin...was murdered. Seven years ago.”
More silence.
“Please. If you know anything—”
“What was your brother’s favorite food?”
He moved aside to let a family pass, held his other hand to his ear over their chatter. “What?”
“Answer the question.”
“Peanut butter milk shakes.”
More silence.
“It’s Blue. Harmony Blue, your brother’s...friend.”
Conner stiffened, and a couple guys in letter jackets nearly plowed him over. “What—”
“I worked with him inside Sons of Freedom.”
The domestic terror cult that Justin had tried to dismantle from the inside out.
Conner swallowed, a knife in his throat. “Prove it.”
“You had a dog named Gracie. A black Lab. She died in your brother’s arms.”
The knife dropped to his chest, and now he moved outside, huddling under the awning as the rain dripped from the eaves. Blue was a woman? “The NSA said you were dead.”
“The NSA said a lot of things. None of them true. Why did you text me?”
Conner scrambled to keep up, couldn’t. “What are you talking about?”
“You texted me, about your wedding. I only turn this phone on once a month, just...I don’t know why anymore. But a day later I came home and my house was in flames.”
Across the parking lot, Jed had parked and was getting out, holding his bag of food.
“Why would—”
“Because they’re tracking my phone! Or yours. Or both, I don’t know. I just know my phone, which only one person knows the number to—or I guess, two people now—suddenly buzzes, and it’s you, inviting me to your wedding—”
“I swear I did not text you.”
“Then we’re in real trouble because someone has access to your phone. And that someone is trying to find me. Wants me dead.”
Silence.
Jed ran over and threw his garbage in the trash. Glanced at him, frowning.
“Why?”
“Why do you think? Because I know what Justin knows—knew. And it’s probably the same people who...who killed him.”
Jed came over and stood beside him.
Clearly Conner needed to work on his poker face. “Listen, Blue, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The other end of the phone was quiet for so long he thought she had hung up. “Hello?”
“I’m trying to decide if I dump this phone and walk away, or actually...” A curse on the other end. “Shoot. Are you sure Justin’s dead?”
What? “I...yeah. The NSA identified his dental records, gave me back his ring.”
He thought he heard a hiccup of breath. “Okay.”
Conner closed his eyes, remembering when his CO had called him into his office, delivered the news. The long trip home from Iraq. “I’m sorry.”
“Then he was betrayed.”
Conner managed to keep his voice from shaking. “By who?”
An intake of breath. “I’m not sure, but I have...I have something that might point in the right direction. I’m really tired of this, Conner. Of hiding. Of waiting. I want to end this.”
Now Reuben had come over as well. Apparently they were having a convention outside McDonald’s.
“Me, too,” Conner said. “But how?”
“Your brother told me you were some sort of hacker—”
“Not really—”
“Well, you’d better be, because you’re all I got.”
Reuben ran up and shot a quizzical look at Jed.
Conner rubbed a finger and thumb into his eyes, saw stars. “I don’t know what I can do. I’m on my way to get married.”
“I got that part.”
“Memorial Day. As in three days.”
Silence. A hiccupped breath.
Ah, shoot. “Listen, how about if we connect after—”
“It’s now or never, Conner. I meet with you and end this, or I disappear again, and this time, without your brother’s phone. Clearly, I can stop waiting for his call.”
Ouch.
“Where are you?” she asked.
This was where his better sense started firing. Because although the conversation snarled in his brain, he did know one thing.
The last thing Liza needed was his past destroying her day.
“Where are you?”
“Canada.”
“That’s a big place.”
“It can get smaller.”
“Fine. Are you anywhere near Thunder Bay?”
“I can be.”
He blew out a breath. “There’s a living history attraction—called Fort William. Meet me there tomorrow, noon. Can you make that work?”
“Yes.”
“How will you—”
“I’ll find you. And Conner...watch your back.” Blue hung up.
Conner just stared at his phone.
“What’s going on?” Reuben asked.
“That was—wait a second...” He opened up his text messages. Scrolled down— “You’ve got to be kidding me. Liza sent out a wedding invitation to everyone on my contact list.” He opened it up, read the short note. Opened the list of recipients. “There are people on this list I haven’t talked to in years. Maybe never.”
He looked up. “That was...someone named Blue. Apparently, she worked with my brother. She had his burner phone and actually thought...” He winced. “She thought it was him calling.”
“What?” Jed said.
“Yeah. Apparently, she didn’t know he...”
“What was she doing with his phone?” Reuben asked.
“I don’t know. She says she has information about who betrayed him.”
Yeah, he’d probably worn the same look that Reuben and Jed gave him now. Hence their worry for him and this impromptu huddle. “She wants to meet me tomorrow...”
“And you believe her?” Jed said. “Dude, you said not more than ten minutes ago that you thought she might have killed your brother.”
Conner blew out a breath. “Yeah. Right. I don’t know. I just...”
Reuben raised an eyebrow. “You’re not thinking of actually meeting her.”
Conner shoved his phone in his pocket.
“Conner—you’re on your way to get married. Three days from now. Your rehearsal dinner is in two days. There’s a list of things we have to get done—”
“Believe me, if I had ducked out on Kate before our wedding, she might not have shown up,” Jed said.
“Listen, guys, I don’t know what’s going on, but if Blue knows anything about my brother’s murder, then I need to find out.”
“Now?”
“She gave me an ultimatum.”
Pete had gotten out of the truck, was jogging over.
“Canada is about an hour’s drive from Deep Haven. I’ll go up tomorrow morning, find out what she has to say, be back by tomorrow afternoon in time to help with that list. And my bachelor party.”
Pete glanced at Reuben. “There’s a bachelor party? Why didn’t I know this?”
“Get in the truck, Conner,” Jed said. “You have ninety miles to figure out how you’re going to tell your bride that you’re not actually showing up for the wedding.”
“What—of course I’ll be there. It’s just—”
Reuben had him by the elbow. “Calm down. Yes. Of course you’ll be there. But that’s why we’re here. To make sure you’re alive to show up for the most important day of your life.”
She didn’t want to call the wedding a disaster, not this early in the game, but...
The Micahs were late, their flight delayed out of Nashville, thanks to a storm center that actually included tornados.
Really, God?
As for the groom, he still hadn’t texted her with an update. Please let him not be turning around, heading back to Montana—
“Is this worth saving?” Raina came out of the kitchen with the crispy, dry German pancake, baked twice through after sitting in the oven for the past two hours.
“Not remotely,” Grace said. “But I have good news. The Lutheran church said they could move the reception to their basement, if we’re willing to haul all the tables and chairs from the community center, set them up, and provide our own cleaning crew.”
Liza sat on the floor, separating RSVPs into two piles while Mona tallied them.
“This might be the only wedding I’ve ever seen where there are no cancellations.”
“That’s not true—I have at leave five here,” Liza said.
“Five. Usually we count for fifteen or twenty percent of the guests bowing out. That’s why we send more invitations.” Grace picked up the pile. “I’m not sure even the Lutheran church has this much room.”
“We’re nearly to three hundred now,” Mona said.
Liza winced. “And that doesn’t include, oh shoot—”
“Who else did you invite?” Grace had lost a little of her cheery smile, probably due to the wrangling for new venues—any venue, really, that might hold Liza’s popularity.
“Well, there were the ladies from the Rose Garden Society—and the Blue Monkeys of course,”
“They’re playing at the reception. They don’t count,” Grace said.
“They still need to eat!”
Grace ran a hand across her forehead. “Okay, there’s the big equipment shed outside town. Or the barn at the old Wilder place, aka, Casper and Raina’s big project.”
Casper had finally decided where to spend the millions he’d earned by tracking down the missing treasure of Thor and Aggie Wilder. He’d purchased their historical homestead and was in the middle of rejuvenating it, giving the farmhouse new life with his growing family—himself, Raina, and baby Layla.
Raina made a face. “The barn is filled with hay and old manure and the smells of nature. I don’t think...”
“How about the indoor skating rink?” Mona said. “The ice is drained for the season and it’s just sitting empty. We could bring in some pine trees, add twinkle lights—”
“We have two days. And yeah, I can call around and find more tables, more china, but...we have to keep this simple.”
Liza grabbed a pillow from the sofa. Held it to her face to keep from screaming.
The room went quiet.
She took a breath. Looked up at her compatriots. “Okay, I’m trying not to freak out, but does anyone else feel like we’re in over our heads here? Really, Conner was right. We should have eloped. This is a disaster.”
Grace sank down in front of her. “Calm down. No, you shouldn’t have eloped. You might need to learn how to say no, and I hereby forbid you from inviting anyone else, but this is not a disaster. This is the most amazing day of your life. I promise, this is the worst of our problems, and we are going to figure it out.” She stood up and glanced at Mona. “I like the skating rink idea. I’m going there to check it out.”
Raina had just come from the kitchen carrying the watermelon salad. She plunked it down on the coffee table. Sat on the couch and began to pick out the grapes.
Liza picked up her phone. Conner had texted four hours ago—four.
“He’s fine,” Mona said, straightening her stack of RSVPs. “Final number, three hundred sixty-four. I think you can officially say that this is the biggest wedding Deep Haven has ever seen.”
Liza reached for the pillow again.
“Liza!” Grace’s voice came from outside. The door squealed on the hinges as she opened it. “It just came!”
Liza lowered the pillow to see Grace holding a plastic-wrapped gown, the hanger high above her head, the bulk of the gown folded over her arm. “The delivery guy just dropped it off.”
Her dress.
She’d had it designed, ordered it online to save money.
Grace brought it inside and hung it on the doorframe of the guest room. Liza got up as Grace unzipped the plastic and opened it.
Tulle and organza spilled out, a fluff of elegance and celebration and—
Wait. No. “This can’t be right.” Liza picked up the train. “It’s...it’s the wrong color. It’s not white, it’s—”
“It’s not brown,” Raina said. “It’s...um, a sort of yellow?”
Silence.
Grace fingered the fabric. “What
color did you ask for?”
“Cream. Like, as in...I don’t know, off white, or even just...you know. Cream. Like you put in your coffee.” Liza pressed a hand to her mouth even as Mona pulled the plastic free from the rest of the dress. The light caught the heavily beaded, strapless bodice cut in a sweetheart neckline. A satin belt circled the bodice, and attached to that, a flower fashioned from the stiff organza. A short, gauzy jacket hung on a separate hanger.
Exactly what she’d ordered. Except... “It looks like a vanilla latte.”
She sank onto the sofa. “All the guys are wearing...well, cream. The right cream.” She covered her face with her hands. “What was I thinking, ordering it online? I thought—I’ll get exactly what I want, the dream dress, and...they sent me swatches! I picked cream.”
Mona handed her the pillow.
“Ho-kay,” Grace said. “Everybody just breathe. It’s a beautiful dress, regardless of the color. And I really hate to bring this up, but...let’s make sure it fits.”
Liza lifted her head and must have worn something terrifying in her expression because Grace followed fast with, “I’m sure it will. You sent your measurements, right?”
Liza nodded. “And I specified cream.”
“Okay, let’s get you up and into this dress.” Mona had her by the arm and directed her into the guest room.
Liza could barely look at herself in the mirror as Mona twisted up her long sable hair into a quick, messy bun. Raina unzipped the dress while Liza pulled off her shirt and jeans.
She lifted her arms, and the crew worked the dress over her. The gown fell over her in a soft hush, draping her in cool, smooth satin. She held the bodice in place and Raina zipped it up in back, then tucked her bra straps into the bodice.
Raina stepped back. “Oh, Aunt Liza, you have to see this. It’s amazing.”
The tiny bureau mirror only caught the bodice, so Raina opened the door. “Stay there.” She went out into the family room and moved aside one of the couches. She pulled off a thick cushion and tossed it onto the floor. “Come, stand on this.”
Liza swished out into the family room and stepped onto the cushion for elevation.
Raina disappeared into the bathroom. She returned in a moment carrying the full-length mirror formerly attached to the back of the door.
“Now, take a look.”
Mona and Grace had fanned out the train, made of layers of flowing organza. Under the glow of the early afternoon sun glinting off the mirror and onto the beads, her dress turned to a kaleidoscope of color. The bodice hugged her body, accentuating her curves, and the skirt of the dress fell away in elegant waves.