“I…I have to go.” I stumbled away from the counter, almost knocking into Buck in the process.
A million thoughts raced through my mind. Of course, Buck and Electra stared at me as if I’d gone crazy, but I couldn’t very well worry about that right now. There’d be time enough to explain everything after we caught the murderer.
I hurried toward the door, and, thank goodness, Lance still stood beside it. He hadn’t moved from his spot with Nelle, but his smile waned when he saw me.
“Missy? What’s wrong?”
“You have to come with me.” I quickly glanced at Nelle, who didn’t seem to know what to make of my breathless announcement. “Now.”
There was no time to lose. So I grabbed his arm and practically pulled him into the foyer.
“Whoa there, Missy.” He dug in his heels by the front door. “What’s all this about?”
“I know who killed Wesley. It’s Jamie, the florist. He’s the one who sent the clock. He must’ve been the one who poisoned the groom Friday night.”
To his everlasting credit, Lance didn’t laugh at me. Instead, he turned on his heels and hurried back to the kitchen, as fast as he could.
I scurried behind him, suddenly energized by the latest turn of events. It all seemed so logical now. If only we’d known what to look for in the beginning.
Lance hurried back to where Nelle stood. “Mrs. Honeycutt.” He quickly spun her around. “Did Jamie Lee spend the night here last night?”
“Why, yes. Yes, he did.” The intensity of his voice surprised her. “Why, Officer? Is there a problem?”
“Just answer me this: where did he sleep?”
Her gaze pinballed to me, but I remained silent. “Why, I think he took the last bedroom down the hall. He wanted to leave, but Lorelei wouldn’t let him go.”
With that, Lance released her arm and broke into a dead run. I struggled to keep up with him, my heart pounding inside my chest. I tried to ignore the faces watching us as we raced down the hall, the figures blurring from one person to the next by the time we reached the staircase.
Lance flew up the steps, his long legs hurdling them two at a time. I hopscotched from one to the next, but he still outpaced me.
I finally pulled even with him when he paused by the door to the last bedroom, clearly winded.
I let him walk into the room first, after a few deep breaths, where he drew his gun. When he reached the center of the room, he slowly turned around and around. After a moment, he waved me inside.
The room was a mess. The dresser’s drawers hung open, papers littered an antique desk, and a braided rug was folded up against the wall like a flattened accordion. A large four-poster bed dominated the room, just like Buck’s, only the comforter on this one laid in a heap and pillows spilled over the sides.
Lance turned around again. “Looks like we missed him.”
“But…but that can’t be.” I tried to focus, even with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Across the way, someone had thrown open the closet door, and hangers tumbled off the rod, every which way. Nothing had been left behind. Nothing, that was, but the scent of something vaguely familiar.
“We just missed him, Lance. He can’t be but a few seconds ahead of us.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Smell the air. It’s his cologne.”
We both turned and dashed from the room. This time, I took the lead, as we flew down the stairs and into the foyer. By now, everyone else in the house knew something was afoot, because they all congregated by the front door.
“Out of my way!” I threaded through the throng and yanked open the door. Once I jogged down the outer staircase, I finally paused on the last step to wait for Lance.
Nothing else stirred around me. “C’mon, Lance,” I yelled. “He must’ve gone around back!”
I sped along the side of the mansion, skirting around one of the water towers. Once I moved past the wine cellar where I’d first discovered the used glasses and cigarette paper Friday night, I continued onto the garden path. It was here that a rainstorm had forced me to seek shelter. And it was here where I once again heard the sound of voices as I drew near the beautyberry bush.
I thrust out my arm to stop Lance. Luckily, he skidded to a stop, only seconds from crashing into the bush.
Someone spoke on the other side of it, just as we arrived.
“We have to get out of here.” It was a man, and he sounded desperate.
The branches blocked me from seeing the speaker, but I recognized the voice right away.
“It’s Jamie,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Luckily, the unmistakable scent of Paco Rabanne drifted on the air, unimpeded by the flowers on the bush, which wouldn’t bloom for another month or so. “I’d recognize that cologne anywhere.”
Sure enough, Jamie spoke again. “Come with me. You know you want to. You know you love me.”
Love me? Lance and I exchanged quick looks. Everything else fell silent in that moment; even the insects, which seemed to know something was up.
“I can’t.” Now a woman spoke.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered. “It’s Lorelei.”
“That can’t be right,” Lance whispered back.
“It is.” While I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, we had to face facts. “That’s our bride, Lance.”
Apparently, Jamie didn’t take Lorelei’s rejection lightly. When he spoke, his voice was raw. “You can’t stay here. I won’t let you.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she said. “Don’t you see that? Otherwise, they’ll think I had something to do with it.”
“But didn’t you? You were the one who suggested the poison.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” she scoffed. “I thought you’d drug him just enough so he’d miss the ceremony.”
“Miss the ceremony?” Now it was Jamie’s turn to scoff. “What good would that do? He was never going to let you go. You have to believe me.”
I pried aside a branch to see the couple. Lorelei stood across from Jamie, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t go with you.”
Suddenly, Jamie lurched forward and grabbed her wrist.
“Come with me.” His voice had hardened. “It’s not a question, Lorelei.”
“What are you doing? You’re hurting me. Let me go!”
Lance must’ve heard enough, because he barreled around the hedge, until he emerged on the other side. Everything slowed at that point. I cautiously followed behind him, but only close enough to watch the action without getting in Lance’s way.
Rage contorted Jamie’s face. Before he could react, Lance dove into him and tackled him to the ground. He had no choice but to release Lorelei’s wrist at that point, and the girl’s arm jerked backward.
It was no contest. Not only did Lance outweigh Jamie by at least forty pounds, but he had hundreds of hours of police training under his belt. He expertly wrestled Jamie onto his stomach, and then he pressed his knee into the small of the man’s back.
In one fluid motion, Lance retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and flicked them up so the blades pointed toward Jamie’s wrists. He clicked the shackles into place, and then he yanked on the chain between the man’s hands to make sure the blades had engaged.
Everything was over in a matter of seconds.
“You have the right to remain silent…” Lance began.
At that point, I brought my gaze to Lorelei, who’d stepped several feet away from the melee.
I expected her to look horrified. To gape at the two men struggling only six feet away. But instead, a slight smile played on her lips, as if she knew what was going to happen even before it did. As if she wanted it to happen.
“Lance!” I yelled.
But he couldn’t hear me. He was too busy reading Jamie his Miranda rights while he pinned the man to the ground.
So I did the first thing that popped into my head. I lurched toward Lorelei and grabbed her arm before she could leave.
“Let me go!” she hissed.
“Not so fast.” I tightened my grip, until my knuckles blanched white against her arm. “You knew all along. Didn’t you? You knew Jamie was going to kill Wesley.”
“You’re crazy,” she spat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
By this time, Lance had finished reading Jamie his rights, but he kept his knee planted squarely in the middle of the man’s back, just in case.
“Lance!” I only hoped he could hear me now.
He finally brought his gaze to mine. His demeanor changed when he saw Lorelei struggle against me. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t forget about this one,” I said. “She knew all along.”
At that moment, Lorelei did something shocking. Instead of denying it, like I expected, she began to laugh. But not a normal laugh. It sounded high-pitched and mildly hysterical. It was the laugh of someone who had nothing left to lose. “What a joke. You can’t prove anything. And I’m not saying a word till my attorney gets here. He’s going to destroy you two.”
Slowly but surely, Lance rose from the ground, and then he yanked Jamie up about a foot. Dust coated the man’s face, and he’d closed his eyes.
“Here.” Lance nodded at me. “You hold onto this one. Good thing I brought a zip tie.”
He and I traded places while he pulled a plastic cable tie—what police called a flex-cuff—from the pocket of his shirt. Leave it to Lance to be prepared for anything, because he quickly used the tie to secure Lorelei’s wrists.
By now, I knew the proper way to maintain control of a subject—thanks to the half-dozen times I’d already helped Lance with a police investigation—and Jamie didn’t put up much of a fight. He’d sunk back to the ground, and he could feel the pressure of my knee against his back. He knew he couldn’t escape.
When Lance finished subduing Lorelei, he roughly pushed her forward. “We’re going to take a little walk. There’s a houseful of people who would love to know what’s going on around here.”