Spike Page 8

  Whitney stepped into the breach. “That won’t be necessary tonight, Captain,” she said with icy dignity. “I, for one, don’t plan on pressing charges on my wedding day, and I imagine my guests all feel the same. If the city has to arrest Agnes, it can easily do so at a later date. She’s not a flight risk.”

  Mrs. Taylor bristled. “Run from you? An up-jumped hussy after my position? Hardly!”

  To everyone’s astonishment, Whitney laughed. Then she spoke in a stage whisper loud enough to echo. “Honestly, Agnes. You’re embarrassing yourself. It’d be best for you if you just left quietly. Who needs the scandal?”

  Murmurs of agreement filled the air, though scandal was inevitable. Gossip this juicy couldn’t possibly be contained. The Howard Wedding Debacle would be on every lip by dawn the following day.

  Agnes gave Whitney a haughty look. “You’ve always been soft, DuBois.”

  Whitney met her rival’s disdain coolly. “Of course, you’ll need to resign from the Magnolia League immediately. Crime or not, we can’t have such uncivilized behavior associated with our honored civic institutions.”

  Dagger.

  Eyes widening, Mrs. Taylor spluttered, “How dare you! Of all the—”

  But Detective Taylor had had enough. “That sounds fine, Whitney,” he shouted over his wife’s impressive string of expletives. “Very generous of you. We’ll be out of your way in two shakes.” Hissing furiously, he hurried Mrs. Taylor past Corcoran and toward the exit. At the last second he turned.

  “Jason?” Hesitant. “You coming?”

  “Not a chance.” He turned his back.

  “Okay, then.” Mr. Taylor bustled his wife out the door.

  Jason stole Madison’s hand from mine, whispering a quiet “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” I gave him room. This wasn’t his fault, and I knew his conscience would be killing him for what his mother had done.

  As Corcoran and his team escorted Biggs from the room, boisterous chatter sprang up on all sides. No one knew what to do next—social graces don’t typically cover this type of experience. So it was startling when Aunt Tempe burst out laughing.

  Whitney gaped as Tempe elbowed her in the side, tears sparkling in my great-aunt’s eyes. “Good lord, Whit. This is one hell of a wedding story!”

  Soft chuckles from the gallery. Whitney shivered, rubbing her arms. Then, incredibly, she began giggling herself. “My God! I mean, have you ever?”

  A cloud seemed to lift. The chuckles became outright laughter. Seizing the moment, Kit spun and waved frantically at the band. Quickly taking their places, they launched into an upbeat number. Shouts of approval echoed in the chandeliers.

  I sighed. What a night.

  But when I turned, Ben was missing.

  I rose to my tiptoes, craning my neck as I searched the suddenly energized crowd. I spotted Ben whispering urgently with Kit. Before I could call out, he bolted across the ballroom and disappeared through the kitchen doors. Huh?

  Hi appeared at my elbow, stuffing a chunk of cake into his mouth. “Where’s he going?”

  “Hiram!” I slapped the crumbs from his hands. “That’s poisoned, remember?”

  “Not the lowest tier,” Hi countered. “Probably.” Wiping icing from his hair, he stuck two fingers into his mouth. Sighed with pleasure.

  “Sometimes you just have to gamble, eh, Brennan?”

  The reception was roaring again.

  Guests were dancing, back to having fun. Whitney had somehow turned a corner, was now laughing nonstop about the whole affair, exchanging scandalized whispers with her friends. She was enjoying the downfall of her nemesis a bit more than was proper, but I wasn’t going to judge. Agnes Taylor tried to destroy her wedding. That’s dirty pool in any playbook.

  Mike Iglehart was whining about his mistreatment to anyone who’d listen, but no one took him seriously. He hadn’t left the party, no doubt enjoying both Kit’s sincere apology and the righteous indignation of the wrongfully accused.

  Whatever. We had screwed him over a little. Enjoy the open bar.

  Jason was following Madison around like a baby lamb, looking distressed. Maddy was acting upset, but I could tell she secretly loved the attention. The other Bolton Prep girls had formed a protective circle around her, taking turns giving her hugs and telling her how great she was. It was the most popular she’d been in ages. People are dumb.

  Me? I was standing by an empty table, anxiously tapping a foot.

  Ben was still AWOL. No one had seen him since he’d fled the ballroom twenty minutes earlier. I’d even sent Shelton and Hi to look for him, but so far they hadn’t returned.

  Where had he gone, without a backward glance?

  What had he whispered to Kit?

  My mind cycled through awful possibilities. Had Mrs. Taylor struck a nerve?

  Anger smoldered within me at the prospect. If that harridan screws up my relationship with Ben, so help me . . .

  But he had to know how ridiculous she’d been. With her stupid, classist, snobbish prejudices. I couldn’t have cared less about what Ben’s father did for a living, or his family’s so-called “place” in society. No, that wasn’t true. I liked Tom Blue’s job. I adored his family.

  Ben was the sweetest, strongest, most loyal person I knew.

  I loved him.

  There. I said it. Thought it, anyway.

  My face flushed, but I didn’t back away from my feelings. Even if Ben was leaving in a few weeks. Even though I might lose him forever to some doe-eyed co-ed in Geology 101.

  I love Ben Blue. I’m ready to tell him.

  So where is the stupid jerk?

  Dark silk flashed in my periphery. I turned. Chance was standing behind me, his sardonic smile in place. I jumped. Couldn’t help it. Dude came out of nowhere.

  “Do you mind?” I stepped back and hugged my chest, repressing the shiver of excitement his proximity always gave me. “It’s impolite to sneak up on people.”

  “I’ve been standing here for thirty seconds,” he replied airily, then waved a lazy hand. “While you’ve been staring at the door.” A sculpted eyebrow rose. “Talking to your furry friend again? That was a truly amazing performance by Coop earlier. Almost as if he knew exactly what to look for.”

  “Coop and I can’t talk anymore,” I snapped, trying to hide my unease at his perceptiveness. For the hundredth time I reminded myself never to underestimate him. “You know that, Chance. He’s just . . . well trained.”

  “So you’ve said.” A statement of fact, not agreement.

  I glanced over his shoulder. A few feet away, Ella looked bored as she leaned against a buffet table. She shrugged apologetically. Obviously this wasn’t her idea.

  “Can I help you with something?” Resuming my vigil. Where was Ben already?

  Chance didn’t speak for a moment, but I felt his eyes on me. Then he sighed. “I hope you’ll trust me again one day, Tory. It’d be nice if we all could be honest with each other. For a change.” He straightened, tugging his sleeves. “Thank your father for the lovely invitation. Our gift is on the table. It’s an espresso maker.”

  I stifled a flinch. What did he mean, if we all could be honest?

  Was Chance holding back, too?

  I turned, but his back was already to me. Chance strolled over to Ella and offered an arm, then escorted her from the ballroom.

  Damn him. Every time I think I’m playing him, I find out it’s the opposite.

  Or is it?

  The kitchen doors swung open, driving all other thoughts from my mind. But it was only Hi and Shelton. They shook their heads in unison as they joined me.

  “Ben left the building.” Shelton fiddled nervously with his bow tie. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, though. Maybe after what Mrs. Taylor said, he just needed some air or something.”

  I nod
ded, but my heart sank. Exactly what I was afraid of.

  “Maybe he took up smoking?” At my irritated frown, Hi raised both palms. “I’m just spitballing here. Maybe Ben’s a superhero, and there’s crime afoot.”

  Shelton leaned close, whispered, “Have you tried calling him on our private network?”

  I nodded glumly. “Nothing. He’s either out of range or blocking me.”

  Through trial and error we’d discovered that our telepathic connection wasn’t simply an open line. You could close off the pack if you wanted privacy. Mind-linked as I was to three teenage boys—and a giant wolfdog—I was usually grateful for that fact.

  Not right now.

  Why would Ben go so far away? Why would be choose to shut me out?

  My sick feeling increased.

  “He used a side gate.” Hi adjusted his sagging cummerbund for the tenth time. He’d wiped the frosting from his hair and face, but the tux was a wreck. “Coop tracked him there, but obviously couldn’t go any farther.”

  Coop was back in the garden, to the immense relief of nearly everyone. No matter how well trained I assured everyone he was, your average wedding guest isn’t comfortable with a hulking apex predator circling the dance floor. Whitney had insisted that Coop scram, though I’d caught her ruffling his ears as he padded outside.

  “What happened to Biggs?” Shelton asked. “Cousin Jimmy, I mean.”

  “They let him go,” I answered, still eyeing the door. “But Corcoran got all his information, and told him not to leave town. Corcoran still doesn’t know what to do next. Arrest them both, I say.”

  Hi chuckled. “It’d be pretty funny to see Mrs. Taylor in stripes.”

  “She deserves it.” I was miles less forgiving than Whitney. “If we’d been a few steps slower, everyone here would’ve been puking their guts out. She and Cousin Jimmy are criminals, scandalous or not.”

  “I’m with you,” Shelton said. “Wackos. You can’t sweep attempted poisoning under the rug, though I bet they try. Did Jimmy kill the flowers, too?”

  I shook my head. “Mrs. Taylor got the flowers. Remember, she was inside the ballroom during setup, supervising the Magnolia League’s camera crew. She must’ve gotten to the vases when the florists weren’t looking.”

  “Makes sense,” Hi agreed. “But I can’t see an old lady crawling under that altar in a cocktail dress. Or maybe I just don’t want to see it.”

  “That was Jimmy,” Shelton said. When Hi and I both looked at him sharply, he tapped his ear. “I overheard some of Corcoran’s interrogation while looking for Ben. Jimmy came by here last night and pulled the pins. Mrs. Taylor told him exactly which ones to remove. She knew how to time the collapse perfectly.”

  Hi whistled. “All that planning, just to embarrass a social rival. Looney Tunes.”

  My face flushed with anger. “Psychotic.”

  An intake of breath beside me. I glanced at Shelton, who pointed to the doors. “Look! He’s back.”

  Ben backed into the room carrying something bulky in his arms. It took me a moment to figure out what it was: three large cardboard boxes stacked atop one another. Two men in white aprons followed Ben with identical loads.

  “What in the world?” Shelton squawked. “He go shopping?”

  “No, no!” Hi smiled, rubbed his hands together in excitement. “I’d know those boxes anywhere. Our boy Benny just saved the day!”

  Kit rushed over to assist, a confused Whitney trailing in his wake. The four men set the boxes on a table and began peeling back the lids. Inside were cupcakes. A lot of cupcakes.

  I beamed. “He replaced the wedding cake!”

  Relief. Ben hadn’t run from me, or Mrs. Taylor’s stupid insults.

  He’d thought fast, slipped out, and solved our problem. Like a boss.

  Whitney clapped her hands like a schoolgirl. “Oh, Benjamin! They’re beautiful! Thank you so much!” She planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Nice,” Hi breathed. Then yelped as my elbow found his gut.

  Ben spotted me and extricated himself from Whitney. As he made his way over, I noticed something else unusual. Ben had changed out of his tuxedo, but not into his standard black tee and jeans. He was sporting a dark gray uniform of some kind, with a black stripe straight down the middle of the jacket. Military cut. I’d never seen him wear anything like it.

  “Just like Richard Gere,” Hi whispered, rounding his eyes theatrically.

  My gaze flicked to my friend. “What now?” I could tell he was mocking me.

  Hi danced away with a sly smile. “You’ll see. Later. I got dibs on a red velvet.”

  My head whipped to Shelton, who was grinning ear to ear. “Thank God he’s telling you tonight! I’m terrible at keeping secrets.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What secret?”

  Shelton stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled away, whistling merrily.

  Exasperated, I turned to find Ben standing right in front of me. He executed a low bow, looking positively bizarre in his fancy outfit. The uniform was tantalizing familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  “Replacement desserts delivered, ma’am.” Ben smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “Hope everyone likes chocolate.”

  “Out with it,” I demanded.

  Ben lifted his hands in surrender. “After Hi destroyed the cake, I remembered that fancy bakery a few blocks over on King. Your dad jumped at the idea, told me to use whatever means necessary. So I jogged over and—”

  “Not that!” I poked the buttons on his chest. “What secret are you keeping? And why are you dressed like a . . . like a . . .” Then it hit me. “Like a cadet?”

  Ben placed his hands on my shoulders. Looked me square in the eye.

  “Because I am one,” he said simply.

  I shook my head, lost. “Cadets attend The Citadel. You’re going to Warren Wilson.”

  “I’m not.” Ben released me. Abruptly stood at attention. Saluted. “I’ve joined the Cadet Corps. Knob Blue, at your command!” Then he grinned sheepishly, lowering his voice. “Or something like that. I have no idea. I’m not even supposed to wear this Citadel stuff yet. Whitney lent me a uniform for tonight. Her cousin’s, I think.”

  “Wait. What?” I couldn’t move. Or breathe. “You’re joining the freaking Citadel? Since when? You hate soldier stuff!”

  “I like you. Love you, I mean,” he blurted, as if determined to get the words out. “So I’m sticking around here for a while. If that’s okay.” Suddenly he was scarlet-faced, and as nervous as I’d ever seen him.

  Head spinning.

  Heart pounding.

  Feet floating on air.

  “You borrowed a cadet’s uniform from my stepmother?” was all I managed, still trying to process the rest. Did he really say . . .

  “She’s the one who got me in.” Ben shook his head, as if unable to believe it himself. “Whitney pulled a few strings so I could stay close to home. She kinda knows everyone in town, FYI.”

  “Ben . . . I . . .”

  I clamped my lips shut, cutting off the weak effort. Tried to gather myself. Finally, I noticed Hi and Shelton a stone’s throw away, grinning like crocodiles, pretending not to eavesdrop as they exchanged a fist bump. Kit and Whitney weren’t even doing that much, watching us openly with wide smiles.

  Obviously the last to know.

  I grabbed Ben by the front of his jacket. “Ben Blue, you do NOT have to give up your life goals because of me. If you’re worried I’m going to bail because you’re moving out of state, don’t be.” Gulp. “I love you, too, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

  “Hey, I love marching in formation. Rules. Orders. Yelling. Can’t wait.” Ben swept my hands up in his. “Whatever buys me another year with you is worth it.” Then he hugged me close and whispered, “Besides, it’s only one year. Then we can both get the hec
k out of town.”

  We were nose to nose.

  The music stopped.

  Everyone was watching.

  Don’t care.

  I pulled Ben in. Smashed my lips against his.

  Applause rained down around us. Inside my head, Hi wisecracked that Ben and I had a lousy ship name. Shelton told him to shut it. But I was a thousand miles away.

  Ben was staying. My Ben.

  We wouldn’t have to be apart. Now, or maybe ever.

  It was the best day of my life.

  My eyes sparkled, as blue as the ocean.

  Love you, Ben Blue.

  I love you, too.

  Outside in the darkness, Cooper sat back and howled.

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