Page 87 of Faking I Do
Lacey backed up, moving away from the flowers until she bumped into me. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. “I can’t believe what you’ve done with the place. You’re a miracle worker, that’s for sure.” Samantha’s feet appeared on the steps, followed by the photographer.
I wanted to pause time. I glanced back and forth from the horror on Lacey’s face to Suzy’s proud smile to the curious look on Samantha’s face as she came down the stairs.
“Is this your florist?” Samantha asked.
I glanced back to Lacey, whose shock had disappeared.
“Yes, she is. You’ll never find another one like her.” She smiled, took a step toward Suzy, and put an arm around her shoulders, propelling her forward.
I had to hand it to her—Lacey was a pro at masking her feelings. She’d be able to convince anyone of anything she wanted. It was a real skill. As Lacey chatted about how important it was to incorporate symbolism from the town andthe region into our wedding, I considered what that might mean. She could have been a professional actress with the way she could turn her feelings on and off. Like a waterspout, she could turn on the tears and then, just as fast, she could switch to looking like the happiest woman in the world.
Or the most in love.
Panic clawed at my chest. What if that’s what she’d been doing with me? Two minutes ago I would have sworn on my own life that she had feelings for me. Feelings that went far beyond faking a wedding. Feelings that offered the possibility of a future.
But what if it was all fake? What if she’d been playing me just like she was playing the florist? Playing the reporter? Playing everyone in town?
“I’ve got to go.” I needed air. I needed space. I needed to put some distance between myself and Lacey.
“Everything okay?” Lacey reached out for me, concern evident in the crease between her brows.
“Got a lead on a case I’m working on.” I leaned forward, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“You sure?” She pressed a palm to my chest.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” I squeezed her hand, removing it from where it seared my skin, even through my shirt. “I’m sorry to cut out on you. Lacey’s better at answering any questions you have anyway.”
“Duty calls, we get it.” Samantha waved. “I’ll see you on the big day.”
The big day. I nodded. “See you then.”
CHAPTER 43
BODIE
I cutthe engine a few blocks away and eased the four-door sedan to the curb. I’d borrowed a car from the impound lot for tonight’s escapade. No need to alert anyone that I was out and about this evening. It wasn’t likely that anyone would come across the vehicle unless they were headed to the Phillips House, but better to be safe than sorry.
I crept along the drive, keeping to the edge where the tall trees and bushes would hide my approach. The small shovel in my backpack clanged against something. I paused to readjust the contents of my bag. That’s all I needed, was to get caught sneaking around the event venue. Of course I’d prepared an alibi just in case but I preferred not to use it. If luck was on my side I’d be in and out of the yard in the space of fifteen minutes. Ten, if I got really lucky.
I scaled the iron fence that separated the backyard from the front and dashed across the grass to press myself against the building. Nothing but the sounds of an early-spring evening greeted me. Crickets chirped. A bullfrog from the nearby pond croaked out a tune. The breeze danced across the yard, eliciting a song from the wind chimes Lacey had hung on the corner of the porch.
My heart slowed. I could do this. I had to. Lacey had been willing to put everything aside to do what she thought was best for the town. Now it was my turn. I couldn’t move on until I’d neutralized the threat Buck Little represented.
Pulling the map out of my bag with one hand, I fumbled for my mini flashlight with the other. The small beam of light played over the hand-drawn map. If the drawing was to scale, two possible stashes sat immediately to my right. I set down the map and grappled for the small shovel. Two steps straight ahead and three to the right. Lifting the piece of freshly laid sod, I pressed the blade of the shovel into the dirt underneath. Assuming I could trust the notes on the map, I had to dig down only about eighteen inches before I’d strike gold. Or, in this case, a wad of my grandad’s hoard.
Five minutes later I had yet to hit anything even though I’d dug a wide radius around the site of the supposed treasure. Dammit. I should have known better than to believe anything Buck Little or my dad told me. Sweat beaded along my hairline. I would have whipped the long-sleeve black shirt over my head if I wasn’t worried so much about being discovered. Instead, I wiped a sleeve over my brow and studied the map again. Pops was meticulous. If he made note of a location, it had to be where he marked it. Accuracy was his style.
I turned the map over. If I looked at the drawing from that angle, I was digging two feet away from where I should. I walked off the steps and dropped to my knees. If I didn’t find anything this time, I’d have to give up. Dad could sell his truck or some acreage to get himself out of the tight space he’d wedged himself into.
The shovel scraped against something hard. It had to be what I was looking for. I carefully dug around the metal box until I could make out the edges. I pulled it out of the ground and opened it.
The smell of dirt and earth and cold cash floated to my nose. Yes. I counted two thousand dollars in fives and ones before moving on to the next hidey-hole. As I tucked the bills into the canvas bag I’d brought along, I fought against my conscience. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to protect Lacey. It’s not like I was stealing, just borrowing my granddad’s cash to pay off the old man’s debt.
By the time I collected the whole fifty grand, sweat soaked through my thin T-shirt. I spread the dirt over the last hole I’d dug, careful to replace the sod and pat it down. Eager to get the job done and ready for a nice, warm shower, I packed up my bag and made my way back to the car.
Forty-five minutes later, hair still damp from my recent shower, I sat across the kitchen table from Buck. I didn’t want to have the money in my possession any longer than necessary and I needed to take action before I changed my mind, so I’d picked up my dad and dropped by Buck’s to unload the cash and hopefully my guilt along with it.
