Chapter 18
AS I WAS getting ready to go to bed, I debated whether I should call Detective Phoenix and tell him that I was almost murdered. Would he believe me? While I was imagining both sides of the argument, the phone rang. I was halfway out of my slacks as I picked up the receiver.
“Are you crazy?” demanded the furious voice on the other end of the line.
“That depends on who’s asking.”
“This is Matt Phoenix. What’s the idea of almost getting Aunt Penny killed?”
“I can’t believe that’s what she told you!”
“Of course she didn’t put it that way.”
“That’s because she’s nice.”
Silence. Then, “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “It’s late, I was worried. In my job I don’t see many happy endings.”
“This probably isn’t the best time to tell you, but the driver who almost ran us down? He was wearing a ski mask. Penny doesn’t know that, I didn’t want to worry her.”
“Yes, she does know that. She told me and she’s worried about you. You didn’t get the license number—not even a partial?”
“No.”
Phoenix was silent for a moment, then, “Do you want me to get a uniform to come over and stay with you?”
“Absolutely not. I’m in my own home, the doors are locked and I’d like to go to bed. Unless you have something else to say.”
“Until we sort this out, be careful where you go and who you’re with.”
“God, Phoenix, you are irritating! I don’t need a father,” I said.
“You need somebody.”
“No, I don’t! I can take care of myself. Always have.” I took a breath and got my temper under control. I didn’t want to fight with Phoenix because I liked Penny. And I kind of liked him, too. Maybe. A little. “Okay, I give in,” I said. “I will be careful. I promise.”
“Good. Penny doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” After a moment’s pause, he added: “Neither do I.”
“Yeah, you just want to win our pizza bet.”
I heard him chuckle. “The bet’s on time-out until this case is over, but I haven’t forgotten it. Take care of yourself.”
“Good night,” I said.
As I replaced the receiver, I knew I was too keyed up to sleep. I slipped a robe on over my Bruce Lee T-shirt and satin pajama bottoms and went upstairs to my office. As usual, I ignored the elevator and took the stairs. The three flights were dark, but I was used to that. When I was struck by the urge to write in the middle of the night, I always carried a flashlight in addition to my keys.
Inside my office, I clicked on the lights and turned on the computer.
Back to the story of Jillian and Gareth.
Gareth makes arrangements for the secret wedding ceremony. Instead of using one of the planes in the fleet owned by his company, Heartland Air, he hires a small plane in Chicago, for cash. He knows that for a man in his business there is safety in being unpredictable.
Gareth flies Jillian to a rustic little town in Nevada. As Jillian discovers, they have come to a perfectly preserved ghost town. The spunky old woman who owns the town is waiting for them at the end of the crude air strip, with her horse and carriage, which are decorated for the occasion.
Gareth helps Jillian into the carriage and the woman drives them to the chapel in the center of the town’s one street. They are met on the front steps by the woman’s husband and by the Justice of the Peace, whom Gareth has imported from the nearest city.
Jillian gasps when they enter the little chapel. It is filled with tiers of white roses and illuminated by the light from dozens of tall white candles. Jillian whispers that this is the most beautiful sight she has ever seen. Gareth agrees, but he is looking at Jillian, not at the exquisitely decorated chapel.
Jillian and Gareth are married in a romantic ceremony, with the spunky western lady and her husband as their witnesses. This wedding might be an elopement, but Gareth has made sure that there is nothing quick or ugly about it. Jillian and Gareth exchange their vows in a setting so perfect that they will cherish the memory for the rest of their lives.
After they are pronounced husband and wife, and kiss, they toast their future with the champagne Gareth also thought to provide.
The western lady tells Jillian that she is a very lucky girl to have found a man who loves her so much that he will perform miracles, like having hundreds of perfect white roses trucked into a desert ghost town. For this one day, for Jillian, Gareth brought the dead town back to life.
The new Mr. and Mrs. Gareth Anthony arrive back in Greendale that evening, to spend their wedding night in the habitable part of Gareth’s castle.
When they reach the castle, Jillian discovers that Gareth has been busy here, too. The rooms are filled with white roses. White roses everywhere. Gareth tells her that white roses are her flower. For the rest of her life, wherever she is, and wherever he may be, when she receives white roses they will be from Gareth.
A superb cold supper is waiting for them. Champagne is on ice and music plays on the newly installed stereo system. Gareth says that he considered hiring violinists, and blindfolding them, but couldn’t figure out how to get them back to town after dinner without leaving Jillian, so he opted for recorded music. He hopes she doesn’t mind. She does not.
He extends his hand. She takes it, and they dance. Alone in the candlelight, surrounded by white roses, lost in the joy of their love.
Dinner remains untouched; the ice surrounding the champagne melts into a pool.
Jillian Lowell becomes Mrs. Gareth Anthony in the complete sense of that title. This is the most wonderful night of her life, and of Gareth’s. He knows, as Jillian does not, that he must leave her in the morning.
If Gareth can pull off the dangerous assignment he has been forced to accept, he will return to Jillian in a few days. If.
I paused, my fingers hovering just above the keyboard. If I was killed, or arrested for Damon’s murder, Gareth might not survive to return to Jillian.
Whoever replaced me at Love could decide to kill him off.
I had to find a way to get out of the mess I was in.