Her suffering was palpable. Even though he struggled against the feelings of pity that rose within him, he couldn’t help but wish Wheezie’s life had turned out differently. Betrayed by her own sister, she had lived out the rest of her days as a lonely, bitter woman, and during her time in Natchez, she had somehow made a connection with another victim of Paulette Martin’s duplicity. Perhaps Wheezie’s discovery that she had a terminal form of brain cancer came at the same time as Milla’s invitation to join her in Quincy’s Gap to celebrate her wedding. The old woman probably viewed the situation as providential, and she and Russ had acted immediately, obtaining him a position at the goat farm so that he might create bacteria-laden chicken eggs.
“How did you make sure Russ and Milla would cross paths?” he asked.
“Russ talked to her outside the grocery store. He’d worked on a bunch of farms in Mississippi and knew his stuff. Made some goat’s milk samples and handed ’em out when Milla went shoppin’. He knew she’d be there ’cause he followed her.” Wheezie snorted. “I just love her purple van. So, so pretty. And makin’ bad eggs is easy. Start with bad hens, let the eggs sit in poop, and smear on some turtle dung for extra measure.”
James recalled the website’s warning about reptiles carrying the salmonella bacteria. The image of the pair of turtle shells resting on the wood pile outside the cabin at the Cornflower Goat Farm made him shiver.
Yet Wheezie’s mention of her youngest sister gave James an idea, a definitive line of attack. “What about Milla? Your sweet, lovable sister, who has done nothing to harm you or Russ, is bearing the brunt of your selfish actions. Sure, Paulette hurt you. No one could argue that she did you a great wrong, but you’re destroying Milla’s happiness because you’re hell-bent on revenge.” Pointing at Milla as she hugged one of her students, James growled, “Does she deserve this misery?”
Wheezie waved decisively in her sister’s direction. “Milla was always sugar and spice and everything nice . I can’t help that she wanted to be friends with Patty or that these things had to be tidied up durin’ her weddin’.” She sighed heavily. “I’m wore out, boy. No more talkin’ now. I’m gonna sit back in my chair until they come for me.”
And with that, she shuffled back to her seat, looking older than she had at the beginning of the party. There was a sickly, almost greenish tinge to her skin, and the loose skin below her eyes seemed almost bruised.
Once again, James’s feet seemed glued to the floor.
“James!” Lucy yelled as she rushed back into the hall. “We’ve got Chloe! She’s all right!”
Running toward his friend, James gripped her by the hand. “What happened?”
Lucy breathed in a deep draught of air and then expelled it. “Russ was hiding in Milla’s van. Someone must have taken the keys from her purse and hid them somewhere where he could get them. Chloe believed she was needed to carry a wedding gift to the van, but when she opened the rear doors, Russ pulled her inside, tied her up, and drove off.”
“What was Donovan doing?” James spluttered. “Taking a nap?”
“Chasing a red herring,” Lucy answered. “Russ gave a teenage boy fifty bucks to wear a hooded sweatshirt and slink around the perimeter of the church. Donovan was on him like sugar on a donut.”
Cocking his head at the odd expression, James momentarily lost his train of thought.
“So Russ made his getaway, but he didn’t get far.” Lucy seemed reluctant to deliver a more explicit explanation.
“Why not?” James demanded.
“Lottie heard Donovan screaming into his radio and, thinking she’d heard a future headline coming across her scanner, jumped in her car and headed over here like an Indy driver on uppers.” Lucy edged her way to the punch bowl. “We got lucky, because her maniacal driving caused her to crash into the van. Not hard, mind you, but with enough force to send Russ into a ditch. The sheriff heard the noise, radioed us, and we got there in time to apprehend our murderer. Donovan actually got to perform a piledriver on the guy.”
Absurdly, James looked out the nearest window, but couldn’t see a thing through the tinted glass. “Where is Russ now?”
Lucy scowled. “With Huckabee. The sheriff wants to play the hero this time. It’s an election year, after all.” Serving herself some virgin punch, she drank down a cupful in several thirsty swallows. “Of course Donovan’s there too.”
James pulled a chair over to the table, sank into it, and served himself a full glass of spiked punch. “You’ve still got a major role to perform, Lucy. Huckabee’s only got one of two guilty parties down at the station.” He quickly explained Wheezie’s role in the killings.
“Some dying wish,” Lucy mumbled when he was through. “Her sister invited her to a wedding and she came to seek out revenge? Aren’t people supposed to live their last days giving to charities, jumping out of airplanes, and making peace with enemies?”
“In a perfect world, yes.” James slurped more punch, welcoming the warmth the champagne and brandy were creating in his stomach. A third glass should knock out the jitters, he thought and poured again.
Lucy placed her hand on James’s shoulder. “This will be the hardest arrest I’ve ever made.”
James was surprised by this statement. “Why? She’s expecting it. I doubt she’s going to struggle or make a dash for the back door.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Lucy’s blue eyes were sorrowful. “I’ve got to bring an old, dying woman to jail. A woman who’s wasted her life because of some man .” She removed her hand from James’s arm. “That’ll never be me, I tell you. My life belongs to nobody else but me.”
James watched her walk away. He reflected that he couldn’t agree with Lucy’s sentiment, as he wanted nothing more than to belong with someone and to have that person belong with him. He wanted to need someone, to love someone so completely that he wasn’t fulfilled without that person nearby.
Eliot’s sweet face rose in his mind, and James felt revitalized by the mere thought of him.
Searching for Jackson and Milla, James saw them standing near the doorway, speaking to Lindy, Gillian, and Bennett.
“My family,” he whispered. “I’d be nothing without them. Nothing at all.”
As he didn’t want Milla to see Lucy take Wheezie away, James slapped his cup on the table and hurried over to his parents. Handing his father the keys to the Bronco, he ordered them to go straight home.
“Russ has been caught and Chloe’s just fine,” he told Milla when she began to protest. “I’ll check on her right away, and then I’ll call and tell you what I know.”
“All I know is my darling van’s been in an accident! But your friends are telling me that reporter girl actually saved my niece’s life by crashing into it.” She rubbed her eyes wearily. “Jackson, honey. I had no idea that living in Quincy’s Gap was going to be so… so exhausting!”
“Take Milla home, Pop. I’ll take care of everything here.”
With his parents gone, James relaxed a little. Lucy had thoughtfully waited for them to drive off before helping Wheezie into her coat and leading her by the arm to the Jeep. Anyone observing the two of them would simply believe Lucy was kindly chauffeuring an old and rather inebriated woman back to her hotel. In fact, most of the guests left the party without having the slightest clue that something other than the celebration of wedding nuptials had occurred.
“Is there anything we can do?” Lindy asked James once all the guests were gone. “The twins left to look after Lottie, and we can take down the decorations tomorrow…”