The Wedding Caper Read Online Free

and a couple of the tellers let out a
whistle. Warren turned all shades of red, and gave me a “good grief” stare. In
response, I grinned like a Cheshire cat and leaned over to give his jacket a
sniff. “ Mmm . You smell yummy.” Must be that new
cologne the girls had given him for his birthday.
    “Annie,
you’re killing me.”
    “Yeah,” I
whispered. “But what a way to go.” I gave him another light peck on the cheek
and he shook his head in defeat.
    As we
headed to the counter together, I allowed my eyes to roam the lobby. From here,
I could see quite a bit—a new painting on the far wall, dust on the
paperweights, the balding spot on the top of Richard Blevins’s head, even the
bit of food between my husband’s front two front teeth. I gave him a little
take-care-of-that-please gesture and he quickly finger-nailed it away. His
cheeks turned a rosy pink, quite a dashing contrast against his wavy salt and
pepper hair. That’s twice I’ve made him blush.
    The
teller’s voice brought me back to reality. “Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”
    “’Morning,
Carl.” I gave a polite nod.
    Carl
chattered on about the change in weather but my mind remained otherwise
engaged. Who had time to think about autumn with so much at stake?
    We
finished the transaction, and Warren ushered me to the door. A
little too fast, to my way of thinking. Is he trying to get rid of me?
     I
summoned up the courage to ask him one more thing before leaving, something I
should have asked days ago. I whispered the words, so as not to draw attention.
“Warren—” I couldn’t help but wring my hands, “I need to know—about
the cash—you know—for the weddings—”
    He
pressed open the front door of the bank and ushered me outside. “I told you not
to worry about that, honey. And I meant it. I’ve done a good job of handling
our finances, haven’t I? And you’ve always trusted me to do the right thing,
right?”
    As I
offered up a lame nod, I couldn’t help but notice the change in his
expression—the etched brow, the tightening of the lips, the crease between the eyes. They all pointed to one thing.
    I groped
for coherent words, but all I managed was an “um” and an “ah.” My soul mate of
so many years must have heard my unspoken suspicions.
    “Believe
me. You have nothing to worry about.” He gave my hands a squeeze. “That’s our
money. Ours. Every penny. So let the girls have it. And let the spending
begin.” He gave me a wink, which should have consoled me, but, instead, sent a
little shiver down my spine.
    Of course
he would say that. What else could he say if he didn’t trust me with the truth?
I had to find a way to coax a full explanation from him without demanding it. I
stood in silence a moment then finally opted to change gears.
    “Don’t
forget, we’re eating out tonight,” I reminded him. “That new steakhouse near
the turnpike. Seven o’clock.”
    “Ah. I’d forgotten.”
    Though I
wouldn’t admit it, I was a little nervous about tonight’s dinner. The idea of
meeting Brandi’s future in-laws for the first time left me with a bit of a knot
in my stomach and I didn’t have time for knots right now.
    I had to
get moving. I gave Warren one last peck on the cheek and then waved as if
heading for home. And, indeed, I took a few steps toward home, just to throw
everyone off a bit. However, once safely out of view, I slipped down the
walkway on the north side of the savings and loan to do a bit of investigative
work. I had to clamp eyes on the night deposit box, had to see for myself the
location of the crime, to scope out the scene, as it were.
    I inched
my way along the wall, doing all I could to avoid the glances from folks sitting
at the bank’s drive-through just a few yards away. One lady stared in vague
curiosity, and I shifted my gaze, avoiding her penetrating gaze at all costs.
Where in the world was the night deposit box again?
    Man.
Turned out the metal contraption was smack-dab in