Читать книгу Wedding Belles - Beth Albright - Страница 9

4

Vivi and I flew back to her house, not even caring about the speed limit. We had a serious appointment with Google on my laptop.

We went inside, and Vivi got the going-to-war food of cookies and iced tea, while I ran up and grabbed my computer. After a couple of hours of snooping, I located one Tressa Mae Hartman in Birmingham, Alabama. Her age matched the woman we were looking for, and when we clicked on images after entering her name, we both nearly fell out of our chairs.

The picture that popped up on my screen was of a woman in her early thirties, brassy reddish-blond hair, frosted lips and a pound of eye shadow in shiny blue. Her pink cheeks made her look like the Little Drummer Boy, and she was wearing a bedazzled string bikini in camouflage...with a beeper from about 1990 attached to her hip. She was pointing at the camera like her finger was a pistol.

Vivi and I were physically unable to close our mouths. For several seconds.

I broke through my shocked stupor first. “Wow, I sure as hell thought Lewis had better taste than that, bless her heart.”

Vivi shook her head. “I’d say she’s had a nip and tuck and then some.”

“I didn’t even know implants came in those sizes,” I mused. “Surely they’re not real. How does she even stay upright?”

“Somehow, I don’t think upright is her favorite position,” Vivi groused.

“Now, Vivi, come on...” I chided, but I couldn’t hold back the fit of giggles that burst out of me. Once we’d managed to get our breaths back, Vivi turned back to the screen.

“It says here she’s a bar singer. And who names her kid after a shampoo, anyway?”

“I do believe there’s a bar singer in Birmingham who’s fixin’ to get the surprise of her life,” I said. “We’re gonna have us a road trip.”

My cell phone rang. It was Sonny Bartholomew, Tuscaloosa’s chief homicide investigator, my old high-school sweetheart and now full-time man of my dreams. As with the news of my separation, I’d been trying my best to keep my deepening relationship with Sonny under wraps while Harry was running for Senate, because, well, news of the candidate’s wife embroiled in a smokin’-hot love affair with the chief of Homicide doesn’t really help the campaign.

But the minute that election was over, my life would begin again.

“Hey, handsome,” I said. “I hope you’re having a better day than we are.”

“Well, it’s a hard day for a cop, too. We’re at the boat, and we’ve turned up some pretty substantial evidence on the Walter Aaron case.”

“Oh, my God, Sonny, I forgot to tell you. I have a meeting with them in just a few minutes!”

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a bit much to go into over the phone. If you’re going to be at the river for a while, I could meet you after the Aarons leave.”

“Okay, beautiful, I’ll be here.” He hung up.

I loved how Sonny treated me. I know he couldn’t go into a lot of detail on an ongoing case, but, as much as it was allowed, he was willing to mix business with pleasure. He was able to work with me on some things, but he never demanded all the credit for something that I discovered. He always let me shine, too. So completely different from Harry.

“Vivi, sweetie, I gotta run out to the river for this case I’m working on. You and Lewis are still okay as far as time to file for the wedding license goes. We will get this girl to sign the annulment papers, and everything will be all right. I promise. We’ll go up to Birmingham as soon as we can. Just hang on tight. I’ll call you later.” It was already late in the day and I still had my real job to get to.

* * *

I arrived at my office and parked in the back, as usual. Heat rose up in shimmering waves from the pavement. I hated to leave the cold air-conditioning of my car even for the few seconds it would take to walk inside.

“Hey, Wanda Jo. I’m here,” I said to our secretary as I entered.

Harry and I own our little practice together. I had always dreamed of having a husband who could be my partner on every level. Harry was that, and more, when we first opened our office. Now, years later, we barely qualified as reluctant roommates who occasionally inhabited the same space.

“Y’all talk to the mystic this mornin’?” Wanda Jo asked as she brought in my Diet Coke.

“The psychic? Yes, and Vivi is beside herself.” I took a swig of my ice-cold drink.

“Oh, no, what did Myra Jean say? Is it bad news?” Wanda Jo stopped in front of my desk and looked at me.

“She said when it comes to Vivi’s marriage, there is another woman involved.”

“Oh, my Lord have mercy.” Wanda Jo sighed and sat herself down in one of my consultation chairs. “You know, I hate to say it, but Lewis was wild in his younger days. He’s changed, though, I thought, and he loves that Vivi so much.”

“I know. I told Vivi maybe she was having a girl and that was what Myra Jean meant.”

“Did she buy it?”

“Of course not. And guess what? We just went to the courthouse to get their wedding license and it turns out that Lewis is still married!”

Wanda Jo jumped from the chair. “Oh, my God, what do you mean still? That boy ain’t never been married far as I know.”

“Well, yeah, as far as he knew, too—until he remembered a college prank where he married a stripper as part of a joke.”

“Oh, Blake, that poor Vivi. What are y’all gonna do now?”

“Well, I’m gonna pay her a little visit as soon as I can.”

“Vivi is so lucky to have you.” Wanda Jo smiled at me.

“We’ll get this fixed and then we’re gonna have us a wedding to beat all weddings,” I said, smiling back at her, hoping I was right.

“Okay, then. I’ll let you know when the Aarons get here, and then I’m gonna put on the police scanner and listen for news of any new dead bodies.”

I looked at her in confusion. “Dead bodies?”

“Well,” Wanda Jo said with a smirk, “if Lewis can’t get this marriage annulled, it really might be him this time.”