Wedding Bells and Death Knells (We're Not Dead Yet Club Book 2) Read online

  We headed back around the side of the church where, eventually, Jasper had caught up with us, looking out of breath and confused.

  “Ladies, I must insist that you stay out of this…”

  “Come now, Jasper,” Ida May replied, “do you want to catch this killer or not?”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Ida May…”

  Jasper let out a small, exasperated cry. “But there are proper procedures that must be adhered to. Chain of evidence, keeping the crime scene uncontaminated…”

  “Oh, I don’t think there is much of a need for us to go back in there, do you Ida May?”

  “Not that I can think of. I think I have the basic layout cemented in my mind…”

  “If you really want to help, ladies, you could try getting hold of the police…”

  “Already on it, detective…”

  We all stopped and turned as Hazel trotted towards us from the direction of the slope, looking slightly breathless as she skidded to a halt beside us.

  “I tried to call out to you when I saw you trying to get signal, but you obviously didn’t hear me…”

  “You got through to the police?”

  Hazel shook her head at Jasper. “Nothing doing I’m afraid. I even got to the top of the slope, but still no bars…”

  “Hardly time for a drink, Hazel dear…”

  Ida May chuckled at her own joke. Hazel looked confused for a moment before she finally reached out and tapped Ida May on the shoulder.

  “No, no, Ida May…” She turned to Jasper. “She must be confused…” She turned back to Ida May. “Bars of signal. If you have a signal bar, then you are able to make a phone call…”

  “Dear God…”

  Jasper looked like his head was about to explode. He turned this way and that, staring up at the hills all around the church.

  “Does anyone have any signal?”

  “No one in the church does, son…”

  “Dad?”

  Cecil strolled out of the church, heading straight in our direction. Behind him, I could see the rest of the congregation beginning to file out behind him, moving off in different directions as they began to walk around the grounds.

  “I told you to stay in the church!”

  “You can’t keep everyone cooped up in there forever,” Cecil replied.

  “That’s what I said,” I put in, nodding to Cecil.

  “But…” Jasper stared around wildly. “But someone in there murdered Ryan. We can’t just let them wander freely. What if the killer makes a run for it?”

  “Relax,” Cecil said soothingly. “I took everyone’s name and address, and asked at least three of four others in the room to corroborate it. If you’re killer makes a run for it, we’ll know exactly where to find them.”

  Hazel looked very impressed. “Well done, Cecil…”

  “Indeed,” put in Ida May, turning to Jasper. “Why didn’t you think of that?”

  Jasper looked ready to explode. He might well have done if I hadn’t intervened.

  “What’s important is that Jasper here is able to contact the relevant authorities. Right, Detective?”

  “Right,” Jasper replied, a look of relief crossing his face.

  “Excellent. In that case, you head off to find some signal, while we hold down the fort…”

  “What? I can’t… You can’t… I need to stay here.”

  “Excuse me, Detective,” Hazel muttered quietly. “Are you suggesting that one of us elderly folk should be made to drive for miles and miles in this unknown wilderness until we can get some signal?”

  “Of course not…”

  “It’s settled then,” Ida May, chipped in. “The We’re Not Dead Yet Club will keep everything right here until Jasper can return with the proper authorities.”

  Jasper stared around, his eyes wide and yet somehow tired. We all nodded at him – even Cecil joined in – until eventually he shrugged his shoulders and, rather dejectedly, nodded his head.

  “Alright,” he replied. “But don’t touch anything and don’t talk to anyone. Remember, you’re not the official police.”

  I nodded firmly. “No investigating – got it.”

  With it agreed, Jasper turned his back on us and made his way off on his journey to find a signal. I felt Hazel slide into the empty space next to me.

  “Are we really not going to investigate?”

  Ida May laughed. “What do you think?”

  Chapter Five – Good Cop, Bad Cop

  We wasted no time in divvying out duties. After a little persuasion, we convinced Cecil to hand over the list of names and addresses, which we went through – one-by-one – assigning interviews between us. When we reached the end of the list, Cecil cleared his voice and asked:

  “And what about me? Who do I interview?”

  There was an uncomfortable pause after this question. Ida May and myself exchanged worried glances while Hazel stared aimlessly up at the church roof. As the pause turned into something longer, Cecil began to get a little agitated.

  “Well?”

  Ida May took the plunge. “We can’t involve you, I’m afraid, Cecil.”

  “Why not?”

  I cleared my throat. “Technically speaking, you’re a suspect too…”

  “You’re joking?”

  You might have thought that Cecil would be upset by this accusation. You might have thought that he spent the next ten minutes wildly proclaiming his innocence and refusing to have nothing to do with out amateur investigation. You’d think that – but you’d be wrong.

  On the contrary, he seemed rather delighted with the state of affairs. He pulled his tuxedo closed around his chest, straightened his back and loosened his shoulders a little before giving us each a curious smile.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Until proven otherwise, yes,” I replied.

  “Wow. That’s a bit fun, isn’t it?” He gave a little excited laugh. “Do you really think I throttled the guy?”

  “As much as anyone else,” Ida May said. “In fact, I think you will have to be Hazel’s first interviewee, don’t you think Clara?”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  Hazel’s eyes widened. “Me? I’ve got the chief suspect?”

  “Chief suspect?” Cecil looked like he could die in blissful happiness right then and there. “Superb. Wonderful…”

  “Well, you are our most skillful interrogator,” I replied. “Better to give you the big cheese, so to speak…”

  “The big cheese…”

  ‘That’s right. You go ahead Hazel. Let us know what you find.”

  That is precisely what Hazel did. She gestured for Cecil to follow her back into the church and the two of them began to saunter back. After a few steps though, Hazel seemed to think of something, turned swiftly on her heels and raced back to join us.

  “What approach do you think I should use?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What style of interrogation?”

  “Oh,” I replied. “I don’t know really. What do you think?”

  “Well, I saw a cop show a few weeks back where they talked about doing some good cop, bad cop. Maybe I could try that?”

  I was about to reply when Ida May cut in. “You do that, Hazel. Great idea.”

  “OK.”

  With a short smile, she raced off. When she caught up with Cecil, she wrapped her arm inside his and quickly led him back into the church. Once they were out of sight, Ida May and I burst out into quiet fits of laughter.

  “That should keep them both busy for a while,” Ida May muttered…

  I almost wish I’d been there to see it for myself. Cecil told me later that it was a masterstroke of interrogation, although not necessarily by Hazel, and described every detail to me with absolute glee in his voice.

  When they entered the church, Hazel led Cecil all the way up to the altar and pulled up a seat for him to sit next to it. For a few moments she paced back and forth, staring down at him with a feigned lo
ok of contempt until she suddenly stepped in closer and leaned down to speak to him.

  “So?” she asked.

  Cecil waited, expecting there to be more to it before replying: “So, what?”

  “You are the chief suspect, are you?”

  “Am I?”

  “I don’t know, are you?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Ha.” Hazel took a step back from him. “I thought so.”

  She paused for a moment, staring down at him before smiling sweetly.

  “Would you like a cup of iced tea?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Iced tea. Would you like any?”

  “I guess so…”

  Hazel launched herself towards him, grabbing the sides of his chair and planting her face right up against his so that she could stare viciously into his eyes.

  “Now listen here, buddy. Where you’re going, you won’t get any iced tea…”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re going to fry you, buddy. Put you in the electric chair and blast you so full of volts that you’re hair will stand on end. Is that what you want?”

  Cecil shrugged. “Not particularly.”

  “Ha. I thought so.” In the next instant, Hazel’s eyes softened and that sweet smile returned. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell of lavender? It really is a lovely smell…”

  Cecil’s eyes narrowed sharply. He raised a hand up towards her.

  “Hold it one second. Back up…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m interrogating you.”

  “Yes, I see that. But what are you trying to do?”

  Hazel thought about this for a moment. “It’s called good cop, bad cop. It’s a well known interrogation technique.”

  “Ah, I see…”

  “Can I continue now?”

  “You do know that you’re not meant to be both the good cop and the bad cop, right?”

  Hazel tried her best not to smirk at him. “Of course you are,” she replied. “How else are you meant to confuse your suspect?”

  “You were trying to confuse me?”

  “Of course. And it worked, didn’t it?”

  Cecil shrugged and nodded. “Until you told me what you were doing.”

  “Oh…” A small smile appeared on Hazel’s face. “Touché.”

  Cecil sat back and folded his arms over each other. “Why don’t you just ask me about what I saw today?”

  “Oh. OK.” Hazel straightened herself up to her full height and, in her best attempt at a booming voice, asked: “What did you see today?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nope. Nothing.”

  “Then why did you get me to ask that?”

  “So you’d ask what I thought of Ryan.”

  “Oh right… So what did you think of Ryan?”

  Cecil pondered this question for a moment.

  “Honestly? I wasn’t too fond of him. I always thought he was a bit of trouble?”

  “Really?” Hazel perched herself on the altar, folded one leg over the other and leaned on her chin on her hand as she watched Cecil intently. “Why? What did he do?”

  Cecil’s face rippled with anger.

  “He wasn’t a good kid at high school. He used to get Jasper into trouble all the time…”

  “Jasper was at school with Ryan?”

  Cecil nodded. “That’s why he was so flustered to find out he was dead. He’s not thinking straight.”

  “I see,” Hazel replied. “Do you think Jasper could have…?”

  “Oh good Lord, no,” Cecil replied instantly. “They sorted out their differences after they left high school. But I always thought he was still a bit of a scumbag. Do you know, he cut in front of me in the line at the grocery store?”

  “No. Really?”

  “Yup, only last week.”

  “And is that why you killed him?”

  Cecil’s eyes flickered. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Are you sure?” Hazel asked, smiling down at him. “You don’t seem sure.”

  Cecil blinked twice. “Perfectly.”

  When Hazel finally caught up with us a little while later, I asked her how the interrogation went.

  “Fine,” she replied. “But I don’t think Cecil did it.”

  “I didn’t think he had, but we have to be on the safe side.”

  “Yup,” Hazel nodded confidently. “He’s as innocent as they come.”

  “Good,” Ida May replied. “So, you asked him about the champagne glasses?”

  Hazel told us she had. Had she realized why we were asking, she might have been a little more honest with us.

  Chapter Six – Troubled Friendships

  While Hazel and Cecil were interrogating each other in the church, Ida May and I wandered across the field towards a small barn located in the center of a clearing of trees. Most of the wedding guests had made their way over to it on Jeremy’s instructions, largely because it was already set up for the reception and the groom was eager to keep his guests as relaxed as possible.

  By the time Ida May and I had arrived, a couple of them were already popping bottles of champagne and quietly drinking their way through the stock.

  “Disgraceful behavior,” Ida May muttered as we passed by. “Poor Jeremy’s big day is ruined and all they can think about is drinking!”

  “What else are they to do, Ida May?”

  “Sit quietly and respectfully.”

  Part of me agreed with her, but the other part…

  “You never know. It might do us a favor in the end.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Drunk people are easy talkers!”

  We found Jeremy over by the far side of the barn, embracing a young woman with short brown hair and wearing a long, silky wedding dress. Ida May cleared her voice as she came to a stop. Jeremy released his bride, who turned around sharply. She was truly a beautiful woman – stunning in fact. When she saw Ida May, her red and tearful face lit up into a smile and she quickly ran forward and embraced my friend.

  “Aunty May,” she cried. “Who would do this to us? Who would do this to Ryan?”

  “I don’t know, dear,” Ida May replied, stroking Hayley’s head. “But we’ll find out.”

  Hayley let her go and looked curiously at me. “We?”

  “This is my friend, Clara.”

  If it was possible for Hayley’s face to light up even more, it happened now.

  “From the We’re Not Dead Yet Club?”

  I smiled. “You’ve heard of us.”

  “You’re legends,” Hayley replied. “Please, do what you can for Ryan.”

  “We’ll do our best,” I replied, looking pointedly at Ida May.

  “Which means I’m afraid we’re going to have to borrow my nephew for a few minutes – just to ask a few questions.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Hayley replied, turning to Jeremy who nodded slowly.

  “Can we have a moment first?”

  “Of course,” Ida May replied. “Take your time. We’ll be just outside.”

  The pair of us headed out of the barn. As we moved into the sunlight outside, I leant in to my friend and whispered: “Aunty May?”

  Ida May smiled solemnly. “I never had the heart to correct her.”

  Jeremy joined us a few minutes later, we headed over to a small bench about thirty meters away from the barn where we all sat down together and admired the luscious view around us.

  “A terrible day,” Jeremy muttered. “Why we chose this place, I’ll never know.” He glanced over to Ida May. “It was Ryan’s idea for us to do it here. He said it was so fitting…”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” my friend replied. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to hand over your phone.”

  Jeremy’s face fell in an instant. “My phone?”

  “We don’t think you did anything, Jeremy,” Ida May explained
quickly, placing her hands on his. “But Cecil was right. You were the last person to see Ryan as far as we know. We have to look into you.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “By going through my messages?”

  Ida May frowned. “Please don’t make this any harder for me.”

  There was something about her sad eyes that could have melted the warmest heart. Even Jeremy couldn’t resist them. Without another word, he placed his hand in his pocket and handed me his cell phone. It was one of those new fangled devices – like the one Hazel owned. After several attempts at swiping across the screen, I finally managed to get the thing to unlock and then spent the next few minutes carefully examining each of the tiny icons. As I did this, I listened carefully as Ida May continued her interview:

  “Is there any reason why you might want to hurt Ryan?”

  Jeremy sighed. “I suppose you have to ask that, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  There was a brief pause in which Jeremy fiddled relentlessly with the buttons on his waistcoat. I was about to cease my search and ask him to find the messages for me when he suddenly spoke again.

  “You’ll hear about it one way or another,” he muttered. “Ryan and I had an argument last night.”

  “What about?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “Nothing important? Jeremy, you were arguing with a man who turned up dead the next day. You’ve got to give me more than that.”

  “It really was nothing. Just a mixture of pre-wedding nerves and…” He paused.

  “And what?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know really. Ryan seemed all wound up for some reason…”

  I’d finally found what I was looking for. I held up the phone and passed it over to Ida May. “Is that why he texted you to call you a turncoat?”

  Jeremy chuckled. “I guess so, I have no idea what that was about.”

  Ida May quickly examined the message and passed it back to me. “It’s all gobbledygook to me.”

  “I think they call it text speak,” I replied, holding up the phone. “See here: ‘C U L8R’. A registration number?”

  Jeremy and Ida May chuckled.

  “What?” I replied.

  “C U L8R?” Ida May muttered. “Clara, even I understand that one.”