At first, I wasn’t surprised to see Ernie Polk walk into the atrium. He’d been invited to the wedding, after all. It was his expression that gave me my first pang of worry. He didn’t look like he’d come to offer us his best wishes. Instead, he had his cop face on.
What now? I thought as he spotted me standing beside Drew, saying goodnight to one of the guests.
Ernie wasted no time crossing the room. Dread built in me with every step he took.
“Drew Parker,” he said without glancing in my direction. “I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Jerry Kaminski.”
Over Ernie’s shoulder, the ghost of Dolly Tibbets winked out—presumably to find and welcome the town’s newest ghost to the post-living community. I had no illusions whatsoever that Jerry would have gone into the light, and neither, it seemed, did she.
“Jerry’s dead?” And for once, I hadn’t found the body. Should I feel bad for feeling good about that? Probably. The relief lasted about a nanosecond before the enormity of the situation hit me again. “What happened?”
“I’m not at liberty to give details about an ongoing investigation.” Ernie began to read Drew his rights. “You have the right to remain silent.”
“And that’s just what you’ll do.” Patrea had appeared at my side. “Let him take you into custody.” Not that Drew had put up a struggle. “And don’t say a word until I get there.”
“Until we get there,” I insisted. “I’m coming with you.”
I didn’t care that I was still wearing my wedding dress. I didn’t care if all of these people were my responsibility. I only cared that something was happening to someone I loved, and I needed to do whatever I could to make it better. That’s who I am—who I have always been—the kind of person whose mind immediately goes into problem-solving mode whenever there is a crisis. It’s not just a skill but a personality trait.
But Patrea touched my arm while Ernie finished his spiel and pulled me aside. “Not this time, Everly. This is what I do, and you need to trust me. I’ve got him, okay?” I wasn’t the only problem solver in my immediate group of friends.
“Stay and deal with things here,” Drew finally said. “I’ll be fine. I haven’t killed anyone.”
“I know that.” I glared at Ernie, who should have known better. He didn’t even flinch, which didn’t bode well. Thanks to him, my bright and shining, perfect day was now a tarnished mess.
By now, guests were filtering in from other areas of the house to see what the fuss was about.
“What’s going on here?” Junior Pease’s booming voice cut through the murmurs like a chainsaw through balsa wood.
I didn’t remember inviting him, but since they were both active in the VFW, Drew could have, or Junior could have been someone’s plus one. Either way, he planted himself squarely in front of Ernie and Drew, his face reddening to match the color of the lobster puff appetizers we’d had earlier. His question was rhetorical since it didn’t take a giant leap to see what was going on here.
“You can’t be arresting a veteran on his wedding day in front of God and everyone. I won’t have it. Do you hear me, Ernie Polk?” Junior’s voice cracked with indignation, his hands clenching. “You oughta be ashamed, slapping cuffs on this good man like he’s nothing but a common criminal! Explain yourself.”
The room seemed to hold its breath, guests exchanging wide-eyed glances. Even the music went quiet. I could practically feel their collective disbelief morphing into a thick fog of speculation that would surely blanket the entire town with gossip by morning.
Ernie declined to elaborate. “I’m doing my job. That’s all you need to know.”
“Junior, please.” Drew’s words tried to cut through the older man’s fog of anger, but they went ignored, lost in the sudden swell of conflict.
“Shame on you, Ernie!” Junior continued, jabbing a finger towards the officer whose jaw twitched beneath his stern facade. “This isn’t how we do things here. We look after our own, and we certainly don’t drag them away on what should be the happiest day of their lives. Your mother would be mortified.”
“Enough, Junior,” Ernie finally growled, his patience wearing thin as river ice in spring. “Step aside.”
But Junior was a force unto himself, a gale that wouldn’t be stilled. His outburst echoed off the walls, stirring up a storm within the once-serene reception. And just like that, my wedding had turned into a scene straight out of one of those thrilling crime novels – minus the thrills and double the drama.
Worse, now that more of the guests had been drawn to the source of the conflict, a commotion swelled like a cresting wave, crashing down to wash away all remnants of wedding cheer. Not that Ernie hadn’t done that already.
My father stepped forward, his presence like a lighthouse amid the brewing storm. He placed a firm hand on Junior’s shoulder, leaning in with the quiet authority he always carried.
“Junior,” he said, voice steady and clear, “lets you and I have a word outside, hmm?”
There was something about the way Dad squared his shoulders, the imperceptible nod, that settled even the most obstinate folks down. Maybe his years of standing in front of high school students gave him the presence needed to deflate Junior’s bluster. The older man’s eyes flickered toward my father with a hint of respect.
“Fine,” Junior huffed, allowing Dad to steer him away from the crowd, albeit with one last glowering look at Ernie, who paused as he took Drew’s arm.
“I didn’t kill Jerry Kaminski.” Infused with certainty, Drew’s voice echoed across the room.
A murmur of agreement spread throughout the guests, but I knew their support could be fickle. By morning, the roots of doubt would be set in the fertile soil around the local grapevine. Phone lines would burn with talk about attending a wedding where the groom had been arrested. Some would decide he’d done something to earn it.
