Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Charlie is in jail. Charlie is in jail. Charlie is in jail.
These words echoed in my mind, looping and tumbling over one another as I sat in my suite, staring down at the key in my hand. He’d given it to me because he’d thought it would somehow either help the investigation or clear his name—or both. I just had to figure out what it opened.
As I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, imagining a variety of locks, Lacy threw open the door and rushed inside, straight in from the rehearsal dinner.
“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” she demanded with a mixture of fear and anger, though I had no idea why she would be directing that at me.
I reached for my phone in my back pocket and held it up so she could see the “Do Not Disturb” light. “I turned off the ringer because we were supposed to be celebrating you and Anton tonight.” I ran my finger and thumb across my eyes, trying to make them focus. “Are you angry with me?”
“Of course not, but I was scared to death.” Lacy gripped her chest before heaving out a deep breath and sinking to the edge of the bed beside me. Now that she was here with me she seemed to be running out of steam quickly. “Tell me everything.”
I didn’t want to tell her everything. I wanted to shield her from all that had gone wrong. She must’ve sensed my hesitation.
“Dakota Green, this is my wedding, and I need to know what’s happening.”
I took a deep breath, meeting her eye. She was a strong woman, and she was right. She deserved the truth.
As gently as I could, I caught Lacy up on the events of the night, everything between leaving with Savilla to pick up more wine, to Charlie’s key, to searching the fake priest’s room.
Lacy stared wordlessly at me for thirty seconds as she processed the information before finally saying, “We made an announcement at the rehearsal dinner right after DeeDee told us. They were in shock, Patty most of all, but Anton’s father was there to comfort her.
But now, with Todd, with Charlie, with everything… the wedding is officially off.”
I jolted, studying her face, which didn’t appear nearly as devastated as I would expect after an announcement like that.
“I don’t mean that Anton and I won’t get married,” Lacy continued, her voice low and steady, as if she’d been pulling her thoughts together for some time.
“But maybe we don’t know each other as well as we should.
Maybe we should’ve taken our time and let our families get to know each other.
Regardless, we obviously can’t have a wedding after the chaos of this weekend.
” Her eyes widened as if she was realizing the magnitude of her own words.
“A man—the man who was supposed to marry us—is dead, and out front, the bushes have caution tape around them.”
I took Lacy’s hand, sighing deeply. “I know it’s awful, but if it’s any consolation, I’m getting the feeling Todd Anderson was up to no good anyway.
” I didn’t mention the blame Charlie note that I’d found.
It was too much to unpack when Lacy was already dealing with the weight of a collapsed wedding.
Instead, I put both hands on her shoulders, making her face me so I could read her expression as well as hear her response.
“Tell me the truth: Do you want to marry Anton?”
Lacy let out a long breath and blinked back tears. “I mean, after everything this weekend…” Her face contorted into a mixture of sorrow and worry. “I still do. His family, this man’s death, it isn’t his fault. Ultimately they have nothing to do with what Anton and I have, right?”
Lacy looked at me with such expectation, and it pained me that I couldn’t answer that question for her and we both knew it. The best I could do was squeeze her hand.
“I know Anton.” Lacy inhaled and exhaled, closing her eyes as she thought. “I do. He’s the one for me.”
I considered Lacy’s words. The chaos had come to Anton and Lacy, but it wasn’t their fault. That’s why she deserved her wedding, even if happily-ever-afters were mostly make-believe.
“Okay, then,” I said, my tone adamant. “The wedding will go on.”
Lacy’s face scrunched and she looked into my eyes. “That’s impossible. There’s no way we can fix everything that stands in the way of us getting married this weekend. What about the priest? Not to mention Anton’s awful family.”
“We can’t fix his family, but I’ll ask Aunt DeeDee to contact her church to find another minister.
We’ll tell everyone that the wedding ceremony will be at 3 p.m. tomorrow, regardless.
We can move through this. I won’t let the universe—or whoever is dismantling this weekend—stand in your way.
” I jutted my chin, more determined with every word.
“And maybe just as importantly, I have a feeling that keeping everyone here might help us figure out who killed Todd Anderson.”
Lacy blinked several times, letting my words sink in.
Her expression appeared almost grateful at my willingness to take control and call the shots.
“Is it wrong that at this point I just kind of want to get the wedding over with? And it’s not because I don’t want to marry Anton.
” She paused, considered. “I think it’s more like I am ready to start our lives together, and I don’t want to put it off for whatever nonsense his family might try down the road. ”
“That totally makes sense,” I said, pulling her in for a tight hug, more resolved than ever that she would marry Anton tomorrow afternoon, come hell or high water.
Lacy shivered, and then tried to gather herself, her spine straightening. “Do you have any idea who might’ve killed Todd? Because people are saying…” She hesitated as she studied me.
“What are people saying?”
“People are saying that Charlie was involved.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Never.”
“Right. I mean, I wouldn’t believe for a second that he had anything to do with killing a man, but…” Lacy raised an eyebrow and spoke more gently. “Charlie is behind bars.”
“I know,” I said. “But he didn’t shoot him or push him over the balcony—or have anything else to do with Todd’s death. Why would he?”
Lacy bit her lip, as if considering whether or not to say more.
“Spit it out,” I said, sounding like Momma when I was little and didn’t want to tell her the truth about who’d eaten the last cookie.
“I know that Charlie wouldn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Lacy’s words were hesitant, making me wonder if she believed them. “It’s just… we saw them fighting outside the bookstore, right?”
Sure, I’d seen them fighting. I ran back over the events sequentially in my mind.
We’d just left The Attic, goody bags in hand, and all of the women—even Bella and the cousins—were actually in a decent mood.
Shortly after entering Sugar & Spice Books, we heard men’s voices, and the next thing I knew Charlie was throwing a punch and Todd was splayed on the ground.
I’d stared at my boyfriend, who looked back through the window with an expression of utter frustration, and the reality of what I’d just seen did not compute.
“I know his behavior was out of the norm,” I said, thinking about the conversation I’d tried to have with him after the fact. Charlie had been vague, but that was from confusion, nothing more. “But Charlie had his reasons, and maybe this can help.”
Lacy took the key from me, setting it in her palm and examining it under the light of a nearby lamp. “It has engraved numbers.” She squinted as she read them. “Four-three-six-eight.”
“What do you think it opens?” I asked, hoping she had some idea.
“Likely a lockbox, and unless it’s for a personal safe, the only place with lockboxes in Aubergine would be the bank,” Lacy said, a gleam in her eye. Even though this weekend had been derailed, she was willing to help me figure this out, I could tell.
I remembered what Charlie had told me last night, right after he’d punched Todd: “Todd started shouting about how he needed to go to the bank.” The idea that this key would open something at the bank made more and more sense. Whatever was inside that lockbox was something Todd wanted.
I took the key from her and ran my fingers across it.
For the first time I felt, even though I hadn’t first been able to see it, some kind of imprint or engraving.
I flipped it over, and on the other side of the key, opposite to the numbers, was a tiny, almost invisible logo imprinted onto the brass.
I moved close to a lamp and held it underneath to see a laurel wreath and the letters “ANB.”
“Aubergine National Bank,” I said, pointing out the logo as confirmation.
“Didn’t the Finches found that bank, like, a hundred years ago?” Lacy asked.
“At least a hundred and fifty.” I nodded, not quite following her thought process.
“Which means you’re probably a shareholder now.”
I narrowed my gaze. I’d read through the list of assets that Mr. Froble’s law office had sent me as one of the heiresses to the Finch estate.
The document had been extensive, running for three entire pages in tiny font, and I certainly hadn’t memorized them all.
I did know that the Finch estate consisted of the palace, pageant funds—which were mostly depleted—a ton of stock holdings, and investments in about two dozen businesses, most of which were no longer operational.
Had there been a line item for the local bank?
“It’s getting close to midnight,” I said, glancing at the clock.
Lacy met my gaze. “Probably the best time to break in.”