Best Laid Wedding Plans Page 30

  “You know who this belongs to?” He whipped a hat out of his back pocket. The well-worn, frayed-edge, olive-green ball cap had “Maudie’s Roadkill Restaurant” embroidered on the front.

  “I’ve never seen it before. Why? Where’d you get it?”

  “On the ground over there. Figure whoever came to visit last night dropped it.” He gripped her arms lightly. “Do you have anything else to do for the wedding?”

  “A ton of details to see to, but what difference does any of that make?” Another tear spilled over and trickled down her cheek. “Without a rose garden, there’s no wedding, Cole. The best-laid wedding plans. Gone.”

  “There will be a wedding right here in two days,” he said gruffly. “Guests have been invited, flowers and food ordered. Go take a shower and get cleaned up. Do whatever else it is you need to do.”

  He ran a finger down the side of her face, smudging the dirt that clung there.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Think I’ll take a trip into town. When I come back, we need to talk. Somebody’s been trampin’ around your bottomland, too.”

  “What?”

  “That’s where I was this morning. After that call last week, I thought I’d check it out. Gotta figure it’s your new business partner.”

  “My partner?” Confusion marred her face.

  “Richard Thorndike.”

  If he needed proof she still wasn’t firing on all cylinders, he had it when she meekly nodded, and without asking any more questions, headed inside.

  Cole rinsed off as best he could with the hose, then walked to the front of the house where he’d left his Ford parked drunkenly at an angle, the driver’s door hanging open. He wondered what she’d tell her folks. Thankfully, neither of them was up yet.

  Before he drove into town, though, he needed to unload the things he’d brought back from Savannah for Jenni Beth, including the trunk. He laid a hand on top of it. He didn’t know what she had stored in it. Maybe bricks.

  A truck turned into the lane, and Cole raised a hand to shade his eyes. Beck. Hallelujah. The cavalry had arrived. Crossing his work-booted feet, he leaned against his truck.

  “Hey.” Beck raised a hand in greeting. “When did you get back into town?”

  “Last night. Good thing I did, too. We’ve got trouble.”

  “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Did Jenni Beth tell you about the call she got from Stella while she was in Savannah?”

  “Yeah.” Concern filled Beck’s eyes. “But everything was okay.”

  “Till this mornin’,” Cole bit out, his fists bunching. “Somebody destroyed the entire rose garden. We’re talkin’ vandalism on steroids.”

  Cole walked back with Beck while he checked out the damage for himself.

  Beck gave a low whistle. “You think Richard’s behind it?”

  “I know he is. But he’s got help. No way would he dirty his own hands, and this scheme is too big for that numbskull to handle alone.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Ever see this?” Pulling the hat from his pocket, he handed it to Beck.

  “Yeah. The Stuckey boy wears it. Why?”

  “I found it out in the garden.”

  “Shoot.” Beck kicked at a dirt clod. “Jeremy’s dad left town about six months ago, and the kid’s gotten into one scrape after another since then. His mom’s fit to be tied. Can’t seem to do anything with him.”

  “Ralph Stuckey left?”

  “Yep. Moved in with some twenty-three-year-old over in Rincon.”

  “So now his mama’s gonna have new grief to deal with. Damn fool kid. I swear if Richard’s behind this, I’m gonna pummel him to dust.”

  “Really? Want me to visit your mama while she copes with the grief that’ll cause her? You won’t be able to help her or Jenni Beth because you’ll be behind bars.”

  Cole glared at his friend.

  Beck shrugged. “Just sayin’. Where’s Jenni Beth now?”

  “Inside cleanin’ up. I’m gonna head into town, see if I can find some new roses or somethin’.” He pounded the tailgate. “This pisses me off.”

  Eyes narrowed, he nodded at the trunk. “Want to help me move this inside? It’s Jenni Beth’s grandma’s, and I don’t want to take a chance on scratchin’ it up.”

  “Sure.”

  Cole’s conscience groused at him. His friend had agreed too readily. Wait till he lifted this sucker. He’d be crying uncle in the first five feet.

  Sure enough, Cole dropped the tailgate, hopped up in the back, and, grunting, slid the trunk toward the edge. Jumping back to the ground, he said, “I think if we each get a grip on the side—”

  Both groaned as they took the full weight.

  “What the hell’s in here?” Beck spread his feet a bit wider as he settled into the weight.

  “Don’t have a clue, but it damn well better be worth it.”

  Jenni Beth came to the screen door, hair wet, and dressed in clean clothes. She held the door open. “You brought my trunk. Can you take it up to my room?”

  “To the attic?” Cole blinked.

  “Yes.”

  The two men exchanged horrified glances and moved into the front hall.

  “I think,” Beck said, “it would look great in the parlor. On the first floor.”

  Cole studied the room off to their right. “Yep, it would be perfect there.”

  “Not on your life. Upstairs.”

  “Might be our lives,” Cole mumbled as he took the first stair.

  Trunk delivered, Cole climbed into his truck and sat behind the wheel for a minute, rolling his shoulders. That thing weighed a ton. But it had brought a smile to Jenni Beth’s face.

  The look in her eyes, on her face out in the garden haunted him, and the anger built again. One person in Misty Bottoms wanted her to fail badly enough to stoop to something this low, this underhanded.

  Too damn bad he couldn’t walk into Coastal Plains Savings and Trust and handle this, once and for all, with Richard Thorndike. Beck was right, though. That would get him nothing but a cell in the local jail.

  A night spent there would be worth every second if it weren’t for the fact he couldn’t help Jenni Beth from there. He’d only add more self-reproach to her pile. And, yes, his mama would be awfully upset.

  He slid the truck into gear and headed instead to the only florist in town. Pia D’Amato. The new florist with the Jersey accent. Was she in cahoots with Richard? Misty Bottoms was a small, sleepy town. What the heck was going on?

  Well, whatever. Maybe Ms. Pia would have some replacement roses. They wouldn’t be Jenni Beth’s grandma’s, but right now, they’d do to keep the wedding on track.

  He drove like a bat out of hell, his temper outweighing his good sense. He needed to fix this for Jenni Beth. Afterward, he’d prove Richard culpable. A siren rent the air, and Cole, swearing a blue streak, slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Could the day get any better?

  He slowed and pulled onto the shoulder. Checking his rearview mirror, he watched Jimmy Don slip on his wide-brimmed trooper’s hat before he moseyed up beside Cole’s truck.

  He lowered his window. “Hey, Jimmy Don. How are you doin’ today?” He reached into his glove box for his registration.

  “Better than you, Cole. What’re you doin’ back in town?”

  “Helpin’ Jenni Beth Beaumont, Wes’s sister. She’s renovatin’ Magnolia House.”

  Jimmy Don took the proffered registration and Cole’s license. “Heard she’s startin’ up a weddin’ business.”

  “Yes, sir, she is.”

  “So why are you in such an all-fired hurry?”

  Cole met the trooper’s gaze. “Jenni Beth had some trouble at her place last night, and I’m tryin’ my best to help
her. She’s got a wedding comin’ up in a couple days.”

  Jimmy Don’s eyes turned steely. “What happened?”

  “Somebody tore out her rose garden.”

  “What?” The sheriff’s eyes went big.

  “All her grandma’s roses and the ones there before her have been destroyed. A very deliberate move to sabotage Jenni Beth’s plans. This weekend’s bride requested the rose garden for her wedding. Everything’s ordered and on track.” He spread his hands. “Now? No rose garden.”

  “Son of a pup,” Jimmy Don said. “Why didn’t she call me?”

  “She should have. Or I should have. To be honest, neither of us was thinkin’ very clearly, I guess. But I did take some pictures with my phone.”

  He pulled them up and handed his cell to the officer.

  “You think kids did this?” Jimmy Don asked as he scrolled through them.

  “Maybe.” Cole handed him the ball cap. “This was left behind.”

  “That’s Jeremy Stuckey’s.”

  “Yep. He probably did the actual damage, but I seriously doubt he was the mastermind. I’ve got a pretty good idea who was, but I don’t have any proof. Not yet. I will, though.”

  “Don’t go doin’ nothin’ stupid, Cole.”

  “I won’t. You ought to take a ride out there, talk to Jenni Beth about this yourself. You can write up a report, maybe use the cap as leverage to get the kid to talk. In the meantime, I need to find some rosebushes. As soon as we’re done here.” He nodded toward the cards Jimmy Don still held.

  The trooper handed them back to him. “Go on. Get out of here. But slow down. Consider this your official warnin’.”

  “Thanks.” Cole tucked his license into his wallet and put away his registration.

  “I’m headin’ out to the Beaumonts right now.”

  Cole watched as Jimmy Don backed up, turned on his lights, and did a U-turn in the road.

  Even with everything that had happened that morning, Cole smiled. Jimmy Don loved those lights and that siren. As it turned out, the stop had been advantageous. He hadn’t gotten a ticket, and the vandalism at Magnolia House was on record.

  But he still had to find—and buy—an entire damn rose garden.

  Chapter 27

  Driving up Church Street, Cole scowled at the new sign outside the flower shop. It seemed strange to see Bella Fiore where Brenda Sue’s name used to be. He reminded himself that nothing stayed the same. Change could be good.

  Sometimes.

  Last night’s change in Jenni Beth’s garden sure as hell hadn’t been for the better.

  Hot under the collar, he parked and slammed out of his pickup. He sure hoped the new owner had what he needed.

  When he stormed in, a beautiful woman, long black hair curling around a Madison Avenue face, smiled at him. Whew. Full, pouty lips, enough cleavage to make a man drool, and a short little skirt just about guaranteed that any man who walked in the shop would have a rise in his blood pressure and an open wallet.

  And yes, he was human. But he had more pressing matters to deal with. Besides, he found he had a preference for blonds with slate-blue eyes.

  “Are you the new owner?” he asked, pushing everything but Jenni Beth to the back of his mind.

  “I sure am.” Bracelets jingled at her wrist as she extended her hand. “What can I do for you?”

  Oh, now there was a loaded question delivered with eyes that promised the world. He decided to tread carefully. “I had some flowers sent to my mother, Emma Bryson, last week. She said they were stunning. Thanks.”

  “You must be Cole.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m glad she liked the bouquet.”

  “Today I’m shopping for rosebushes. Do you carry any?”

  “I do. I have a wonderful selection. They’re in the side garden.” She opened the door and preceded him down the stairs and around the side. “What kind are you looking for?”

  Cole scratched his head. “I don’t really know.”

  “Where did you plan to put them?”

  By now, they stood surrounded by rosebushes of all kinds.

  “They’re not actually for me.”

  “For your mother?”

  “Nope, although now that you mention it, I might pick up an extra one for her.”

  “That would be nice. You’re a good son.”

  “You from Jersey?” He picked his way down an aisle, leaning in to smell some of the roses as he went.

  “I am. See any you like?”

  “This one.” He pointed to a deep red rose. “And maybe this one.”

  “Both great choices.”

  “They’re goin’ to Magnolia House. My friend, Jenni Beth Beaumont, has a wedding this comin’ weekend—in her rose garden.”

  A guarded look came into Pia’s eyes and shoved aside the sultry vixen. “Yes, I know Jenni Beth.” Pia fingered a leaf on one of the bushes. “I’m doing the flowers for this weekend’s wedding. It’s her first.”

  “Yeah. And it’s really important things go off without any hiccups. We’ve unfortunately run into a massive hiccup. Somebody destroyed her rose garden last night.”

  He watched her face but other than a quick eye blink, she gave nothing away.

  “If I catch the bastard who did it, he, or she, is gonna be one sorry SOB.” Cole figured he’d said enough. “Anyway, I’ll take everything you have in red.”

  Pia’s expression changed. Cole studied her more carefully. Her color came up, and she looked extremely uncomfortable. Her eyes no longer met his.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, it’s just that, ah, I didn’t realize you needed these right away.”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  “Actually, um, these roses are sold.”

  “All of them?” Disbelief crept into his words.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t see any sold tags.”

  She played with a large silver and turquoise ring. “I’m sorry.”

  “How about the pink ones, the white or yellow ones?”

  “They’re all sold.”

  “Why’d you show them to me?”

  “I thought you were planning to order some.”

  “You’re kiddin’.”

  He waited but she said nothing more.

  He raised the stakes. “I’ll pay you double whatever the askin’ price is.”

  Pia shook her head. “I can’t. They’re already paid for. What if they come to pick them up before I can get a new delivery?”

  “Okay.” Mentally, Cole ran through the problem, searched for possible solutions. He didn’t for a minute believe the plants were sold. Maybe if he pushed a bit, she’d give. “Who bought them? I’ll call and explain the situation.”

  “I don’t have a name, and I don’t know the people here in Misty Bottoms all that well yet.”

  “A sale this big and you don’t know who bought them?” He swept a hand, encompassing her display of roses.

  “It was a developer.”

  “What name was on the check, the credit card?”

  “He paid cash.” She leaned down and pulled off a dead rose. “Honestly, I’d love to help Jenni Beth, but I can’t.”

  Cole stared at her, but Pia refused to meet his eyes. His jaw tightened. “I hate to come right out and say I don’t believe you, but I don’t believe you.”

  Her back stiffened. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Are you? I wonder.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Well, thanks for nothin’. I hope that developer gets back here soon to pick up this odd assortment of bushes. Strange that he’d go with such a variety.”

  Pia shrugged. “Everyone has different tastes.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? When you talk to Richard, tell him I’ll be
around to see him. Soon.”

  He ignored her surprised gasp and walked around to the front of the shop.

  He couldn’t remember ever being so angry. He was so furious he actually shook from it. Damned if he’d let them destroy Jenni Beth.

  Inside his truck, he picked up his cell and started making calls.

  * * *

  “Slow down, Kitty. You’re talking too fast. I can’t understand you.” Jenni Beth dropped onto her office chair. If it was at all possible, this day had just taken a turn for the worse.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. The cake was almost finished. I had the bottom two layers finished, and it looked fantastic. Not like anything I’d ever done before, but nice.”

  Jenni Beth gritted her teeth. She’d told the baker to slow down, not give her a blow-by-blow.

  “Anyway, I left it setting on my worktable while I ran to the post office real quick. My grandson’s birthday is this comin’ week, and I wanted to pick up a special card for him and get it in the mail.”

  “Okay,” Jenni Beth said patiently. “What happened to the cake?”

  “Oh, the cake. It’s ruined. While I was gone, Toby came in to wash up the dishes. She brought her two boys with her. Long story short…”

  She hesitated and Jenni Beth rolled her eyes. “And?”

  “They got to roughhousin’, I guess. One of them bumped into the worktable and the cake toppled and fell to the floor.”

  Jenni Beth pressed her forefingers against her eyes. “Can’t you make another? The wedding’s not today, Kitty. You’ve got plenty of time.”

  “That’s the thing. I’d put the cake topper, you know, the special one Stella sent me with the bride and groom on the Harley, on the table beside the cake. It fell off, too, and shattered into a million pieces.”

  Jenni Beth didn’t reply. Apparently the universe was dead set on derailing her first Magnolia Brides wedding and doing a bang-up job of it. First the venue, her grandmother’s rose garden, destroyed, and now the cake and topper.

  Her mind raced. “If I find you a topper, can you bake a new cake?” She fought to keep her voice even, to hide her frustration.