Chapter Twenty-Eight

The wedding of Josie O’Malley and Jake Greenblatt was the highlight of the winter. The night air was cold and crisp and the sky full of stars. The bride was radiant, the groom handsome, the couple’s parents beaming with pride, their friends jubilant. The father of the bride made a toast to absent friends. We momentary bowed our heads in memory of Mirabelle and gave a thought to Florence. Steph, Grace, and I had converted Jake’s Seafood Bar into a winter-wedding wonderland with silver and ice-blue decorations. Josie’s bouquet of pale-peach roses, leaves of dusty miller, and stems of silver brunia was reproduced in the flowers on each table, which had been nestled into mason jars tied with silver ribbon. The supply of canapés was seemingly endless, and the tower of cupcakes, iced in various shades of blue, stood on a side table, waiting to be cut. Steph and Butch’s signature cocktail, a classic drink of gin with elderflower liquor and club soda, had been a huge hit, and I might have had a glass or two more than was good for me.

“Gone.” Jake, who looked very elegant despite not wearing a morning suit in the style of Lord Peter, led me onto the dance floor.

Josie was dancing with her brother Aaron, handsome in his brand-new suit. Josie herself positively glowed. She and I had been to the hairdresser this morning, and her hair was gathered behind her head in a loose bunch interwoven with tiny white flowers. She wore no train or headpiece, and her dress was the very definition of elegant simplicity: an A-line design featuring a cap-sleeved, close-fitting lace bodice with a scooped neckline, cascading in a waterfall of sleek chiffon from her thin waist to the floor. The back was pleated, edged with lace, and featured a small bow.

“What’s gone?” I asked the groom.

“Toni. The police.” He jerked his head to indicate Sam Watson, who was huddled with Butch, no doubt talking shop, while CeeCee dragged Connor onto the floor. “Said they wouldn’t press charges for the assault on you if she left town. She’s gone back to Buffalo, where her family lives.”

“I knew Sam was going to do that, and I approved, but do you think she’ll stay away?”

“I do. She didn’t even call me to say goodbye.”

“Good riddance.”

“Josie’s grandmother seems to be bearing up.” We took a quick peek at the circle of tables pushed against the walls. Gloria knocked back another glass of champagne, munched on an endless supply of salmon and crab canapés, and told everyone who stopped to talk to her that she didn’t care for sit-down dinners at weddings.

“She’s been surprisingly well behaved, Aunt Ellen tells me,” I said. “She thought Josie’s dress could do with a lot more beading and a little more fabric around the neckline, but that was all the criticism she had. I didn’t even have to call in my mom with the heavy artillery.”

My parents swept past us. Mom looked great in a pale-green Versace cocktail dress and diamonds. Dad gave me a grin. They were staying at Ellen and Amos’s along with Gloria, and the visit was going well. No one had offended anyone else. Not yet, anyway.

“Thank you.” Jake gave me a deep bow when the song ended. He escorted me back to the library table and asked Nan, Ronald’s wife, for the honor of the next dance.

“Great wedding.” Ronald watched them move around the floor. His tie for the evening was neon pink scattered with red hearts.

“Great people,” Charlene added. “They deserve to be so very happy.”

“Speaking of very happy,” Bertie said. “Gather around, everyone. Consider this an emergency library staff meeting. Connor, you can stay as long as you promise not to tell the commissioners before I send in my report.”

“I can do that,” he said.

We pulled our chairs closer and leaned in.

Louise Jane and Theodore were chatting to Professor Edward McClanahan, Bertie’s date for the evening. She waved them over.

“Is it time for us?” Louise Jane’s eyes shone with excitement and maybe a bit too much champagne and cocktails.

“Time for you to what?” I asked.

“I’m so excited,” Theodore said. He’d dressed almost as formally as the groomsmen in a three-piece gray suit with starched white shirt and gray tie.

“In a minute,” Bertie said. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say first. Then Louise Jane and Teddy, you can make your announcements. Jake says to give him the signal when we’re ready.”

“Signal for what?” I asked.

“An anonymous benefactor has made a donation to the restoration fund of twenty thousand dollars.”

Ronald whistled, and Charlene punched the air with her fist. “That’s great,” I said.

My parents danced past our table. Bertie looked at me and wiggled her eyebrows, and I understood who this mysterious benefactor was.

“In addition, I got word this afternoon that a donation of five thousand will be made in the name of the late Jonathan Uppiton.”

That came as a shock.

“How on earth,” Charlene said, “did you manage to get Diane to agree to that?”

Bertie preened. “I did a bit of investigative work of my own while Lucy was busy solving a murder. Why don’t you tell them, Eddie?”

“I made a call.” Professor McClanahan looked very pleased with himself. “To a representative of the board of the Bodie Island Lighthouse Library. I might have accidentally let it slip that I am a professor at Blacklock College, and I might have mistakenly given the impression that the college was considering donating to the library in order to keep its valued rare book collection open.”

“Misunderstandings happen,” Charlene said.

“Quite so. Fortunately, the board member I spoke to had little knowledge of the inner workings of academe.” His bow tie was at the approximate angle of the Titanic as the great ship went down. He straightened it. It immediately began to tilt toward the stern once again. “As if my college would spare as much as a cent to save another organization’s valuables. We’d be more likely to want to see the library closed and the collection dispersed in order that we might grab some of it at a discount.”

“Let me fix this and then you can continue with your story.” Bertie leaned over and gave the tie a couple of twists until it was straight.

“Thank you, my dear,” Eddie said. “The … uh … gentleman I spoke to thanked me for my call, but said the restoration fund would not be able to meet its goal and thus my donation would be wasted. He sounded very sad at giving me such news.”

“That rat,” I said.

“When I next see Curtis Gardner—” Charlene said.

“Did we mention names?” Bertie said. “We did not. Fortunately, Eddie just happened to be recording the phone conversation …”

“My bad,” the professor said.

“And I played it back,” Bertie said, “when I called the person or persons in question. I might have mentioned that I was going to give it to the local radio station. People who generously opened their wallets and checkbooks in support of the library might not be pleased to hear it.”

“We have twenty thousand from the anonymous donor,” Charlene said. “The five in memory of Jonathan, about ten thousand from various library friends and patrons, including those who gave at Josie’s reopening, five thousand from Josie’s grandmother. That plus what we all gave, and the proceeds of our bake sale and silent auction, comes to a nice sum, but still not enough.”

“We got this far.” I tried to sound optimistic. “We can keep going.”

“I don’t know how many more cupcakes I can bake,” Charlene said.

Jake escorted Nan back to our table, and Josie joined him.

“Are you ready?” Jake asked.

Bertie looked at Theodore and Louise Jane. “Are you two sure about this?”

They nodded enthusiastically. “Totally.”

Ronald, Charlene, and I exchanged confused glances.

“Let’s do it,” Louise Jane said.

Bertie stood up. Between Jake and Josie, she walked with Louise Jane and Theodore to the front of the room. Jake signaled to the band and they stopped playing. Jake took the microphone.

“First,” he said when he had everyone’s attention, “on behalf of my beautiful wife”—the room erupted in cheers—“and myself, I’d like to once again thank y’all for coming. The band will be here for a long time yet, and I sense something good about to come out of the kitchen—” More cheers. “Now, a special announcement on behalf of the Bodie Island Lighthouse Library, which is dear to all our hearts.” Jake stepped back and Bertie took his place.

“She’s up to something,” Ronald said. “I recognize that grin.”

“The same grin I fell in love with,” Eddie said, “the day I dropped my stack of books on the stairs going into the lecture hall, so long ago. She tripped over them, as I remember, and swore a blue streak at me for my clumsiness. When her leg came out of the cast, she told me I was forgiven.”

“Shush,” Charlene said.

“It’s my great pleasure to be able to announce here tonight,” Bertie said, “that thanks to extremely generous gifts from two of the staunchest library patrons, the library has exceeded the amount needed for the restoration fund.”

I gasped and turned to my friends. Mouths hung open. Connor had a spark in his eye. “You knew about this?” I asked.

“I’d like to take the credit, but I can’t. Once Bertie had secured the promise of enough funds to get the work started, she approached the town again. The commissioners were impressed by the devotion the people of this town have to the library and agreed to double our initial offer.”

Theodore stepped up to the microphone. He tapped on it. “Is this thing on?”

“We can hear you, Teddy,” someone called.

Theodore leaned over and spoke loudly and clearly. “Thank you.” He stepped back.

“What are you thanking us for?” Butch called.

“Oh, didn’t I say?”

“No, you did not.”

Bertie took his place. “Theodore sold a signed first edition of Live and Let Die by Ian Fleming for a price of twenty-five thousand dollars, and he has donated the full sum to the library.”

“Oh my gosh,” I said. “He got that book from Julia Ruddle in thanks for saving her life. Giving it away is a huge sacrifice for him.”

Bertie continued. “Louise Jane McKaughnan’s great-grandmother is, as many of you know, in ill health and not able to travel, but she has instructed me to tell you that at Louise Jane’s suggestion, she sold a collection of letters received by Captain Thaddeus Clark of the Rebecca McPherson in 1753. Included among the letters is one from the captain’s mother’s neighbor, discussing local matters of the day.” Bertie paused.

“That’s probably worth something to a naval historian,” Charlene said, “but I can’t see that anyone else would care. I know about Clark and his ship, and what happened to it, but nothing about his family life.”

“She has that look,” Eddie said. “Wait for it. Something’s coming.”

“Captain Clark’s mother’s neighbor at the time,” Bertie said, “was a young gentleman by the name of George Washington.”

Charlene gasped. The room burst into cheers.

“Mrs. McKaughnan has sold this packet of letters to the Historical Foundation of the Carolinas, and has agreed to donate the proceeds of fifteen thousand dollars to the Lighthouse Library.”

Ronald, Charlene, and I leapt to our feet and gathered each other into a group hug. Connor hugged Nan, and Eddie applauded vigorously as the band struck up the next song.

“You did it!” I said to Bertie when she joined us.

“We did it, Lucy. All of us. Together. I’ve told George to enter our job into his schedule and start applying for the necessary permits.”

Louise Jane and Theodore joined us. I thought Charlene was about to cry. Ronald slapped Theodore heartily on the back, and I threw my arms around Louise Jane. “That was unbelievably generous.”

“I told you, Lucy, the Lighthouse Library is important to me too. Wouldn’t it be exciting if they find something long buried under the lighthouse? Like pirate treasure or a dead body?”

“Don’t be fanciful,” I said. “That only happens in books.”

“This calls for a celebratory dance.” Eddie bowed deeply to Bertie. “May I?”

She laughed and took his hand. Theodore escorted Louise Jane onto the dance floor, and Ronald and Charlene joined them.

“Care for this dance?” Connor asked me.

“I’d love to.”

He took my hand in his, and we walked onto the floor. He folded me into his arms. The band struck up “Love Me Tender” by Elvis Presley, and we danced close together, moving gently to the music. “A perfect night,” he said.

I murmured agreement and settled myself deeper into his arms. Then I had a sudden, horrible thought. “Oh, no!”

Connor pulled away and looked into my face. “What is it? Are you all right? Did I step on your toe?”

“I’m fine, but I remembered something. In my rush to get ready to leave for the church in time, I forgot to feed Charles. When I get home, my life won’t be worth living.”

Connor laughed and pulled me close.

“Love me tender, love me true,” the singer crooned.

And that, I realized, is what I would be doing with this man for a long time to come.