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  Maybe she should get away, go out of town for a few days, maybe even back to Seattle to visit friends. Then she realized that wasn't possible. One of the conditions of bail was that she stayed local, no out of town travel. And the wedding was this coming Saturday.

  As much as she'd been looking forward to it, now she was dreading it. How could they still have it? If they postponed or cancelled, they'd lose everything—it was much too late for that. All the food and flowers had been ordered. This was a disaster. Would people even still come if they did have the wedding? Would David want to still marry her? Especially now? Lauren felt the tears coming again and burrowed down in her blanket, feeling very sorry for herself. She couldn't imagine how she was going to get out of this mess.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  David felt the strange vibe in the office the minute he walked in. People said hello, but there were averted glances and awkward hesitations. It immediately put him in a foul mood and after he found an over-sized mug, he filled it with black coffee and went into his office to hibernate, closing his door tightly behind him. He never closed his door unless he was in a meeting, but this morning he wanted to try to block everything out so he could focus on work and get his mind off the whirlwind of insanity around him.

  Not five minutes later, his phone buzzed and it was Helen at the front desk announcing that Randy, his 'favorite client' as he referred to himself, was on the line. David gritted his teeth. "Thanks; please put him through."

  "David, how are you?" Randy's booming voice was so loud David had to hold the phone away from his ear.

  "What's going on Randy?" He asked, ignoring the question of how he was.

  "You free at lunch today? I have something I want to run by you." David checked his calendar. He was free and though he'd ordinarily be tempted to say he couldn't make it, today he actually welcomed the invitation. Even though it was Randy, it would still help to get his mind off everything. He knew that a meeting with Randy meant talking about Randy the entire time, and today that might be okay. They agreed to meet at the Club at noon. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

  "Come on in."

  Billy entered the office and shut the door behind him. He didn't sit, just paced around the room as he talked.

  "How're you holding up?"

  "Hanging in there." Like Lauren, he'd barely slept and guessed that it wasn't too hard to tell from the shadows under his eyes.

  "You look like hell." Billy confirmed. "How's Lauren doing?"

  "The same. They sent her home as soon as she got in this morning. Leave of absence. Kind of figured they'd have to do that."

  "Yep. No choice really, 'til this all blows over." He looked at David thoughtfully. "This will blow over right? No chance there's anything to it?"

  "No way. I absolutely trust Lauren and I know her."

  "Good. So what about the wedding? Is it still on? Probably going to postpone I imagine?"

  "It's definitely still on. I don't know about postponing. We need to talk about that tonight I guess."

  "Well, let me know if I can do anything. You know you have our complete support—both Chuck’s and mine. We talked about it earlier."

  "Thanks, I appreciate that. Is Chuck in today? I didn't see his car outside?"

  "He and Katy are seeing a marriage counselor this morning. Nothing major—just a few bumps in the road." Billy left and David tried to dive into his work, but it was hard to focus. He started wondering if they should postpone the wedding until this craziness died down. He didn't want to, but if they married now, it wouldn't exactly be the wedding of Lauren's dreams. More like a circus. Yet he didn't want to put it off.

  Several hours later at lunch, Randy asked him the same question.

  "It's up to Lauren, whatever she wants to do."

  Randy dipped the end of his rare roast beef sandwich into a small dish of au jus and took a bite. As soon as he swallowed he said, "You know, if you go through with the wedding, it'll be like you're thumbing your nose at all the naysayers, and showing total support and trust in Lauren."

  "I agree and plan to share that with Lauren. Ultimately, it's her call though. I wouldn't blame her if she wants to postpone. It's a difficult time, not exactly a time of celebration."

  "Attitude is everything. They close on any other leads? It seems like they've been working hard on this. They even came around questioning me, can you imagine?" That got David's attention.

  "Why would they question you?"

  "Eric did a little work for me on the side, parking cars. We had a disagreement. He and his buddy took one of my Lamborghini's for a joyride and hit some rocks that damaged the paint. You can guess I wasn't too happy about that."

  "What did you do?"

  "We had an arrangement; they'd work doing odd jobs for me until the damage was paid off. We disagreed on the length of the term. They just decided one day that they were done, and I felt they hadn't worked enough.”

  "So what did you do?" David asked again.

  "Nothing. Just yelled and screamed and that was the end of it. Plus I had an alibi for the time period they thought Eric was killed."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah, wife and I were in all night. She'd made a great dinner, her meatballs and sauce rock, and I went to bed early that night. Food coma did me in." He flashed a grin before diving into his French dip for another bite.

  David still had half of his burger left, but he'd suddenly lost his appetite. His mind swirled with what Randy had just divulged. Memories came rushing back of Randy in college, and the multiple occasions where his temper had gotten him into trouble. He'd been even more of a hothead then, blew up easily and when he did, nothing around him was safe. He liked to smash things when he was mad, anything he could get his hands on, a baseball bat was a particular favorite.

  He once used a baseball bat to thoroughly demolish a vehicle parked outside the frat house, annihilated the windshield with one blow and left nasty dents all over. David and several others had watched him do it with a mixture of awe and disgust. They hollered at him to stop, but he ignored them until he was done and his anger was somewhat sated. The boy whose car he destroyed did nothing about it. He didn't dare. He'd made the mistake of dating Randy's recent ex-girlfriend.

  David hadn't thought much about Randy's legendary temper. He hadn't seen any signs of it since he'd moved to Waverly. College was a long time ago, and people grew up. But maybe they didn't change that much. After all, he was still a self-centered loudmouth, why wouldn't he still have the temper too? He'd have to ask Jack about Randy.

  "So, the reason I wanted to talk to you," Randy began, and David snapped his attention back.

  "I have a chunk of money in an account offshore. I'd like to invest it. Do I need to move it here first?"

  "How much money are you talking?" David was intrigued. He wouldn't have pegged Randy as sophisticated enough to have an offshore account.

  "About five million." David raised his eyebrows. Where did Randy get that kind of money?

  "That's a very large chunk."

  "I've made some good investments, now I want you to make a few more for me."

  On his way home from work, David called Jack and told him about his conversation with Randy.

  "So, is he a suspect?"

  Jack hesitated for a moment before answering. "No. he's not an official suspect. Listen, I don't like the guy any more than you do, but he doesn't really have a motive. He just has a bit of a temper. I don't see him killing the kid over the argument they had. There's no evidence to support the idea, and he has an alibi. He was home with his wife all night."

  "Wives don't make the strongest alibis."

  "I agree. But still, the fact remains that there's not a scrap of evidence to tie Randy to the murder. His prints aren't on the golf club." He didn't add that Lauren's were, but it's what they were both thinking.

  "Okay. It would just be almost satisfying if he was the guy, you know?" David was drained; it had been a long day.


  "I know. We're still working on this," Jack reassured him. "Some of us are not convinced that Lauren did this."

  "Thank you. It's good to hear that." David hung up, pulled onto Lauren's street and was dismayed to see the media vans lining the street. There were at least a half dozen of them. When they realized who he was, they flew out of the vans and came running, calling out his name. He refused to even look their way. David walked in the door and once again, the condo smelled amazing. Lauren had been cooking up a storm. He set his briefcase down, took off his coat and shoes and then walked into the kitchen and gave Lauren a kiss hello.

  "How was your day?" he asked and looked at the pots bubbling away on the stove. One held boiling water and the other was a huge stockpot full of spicy tomato sauce and oversized meatballs. Lauren opened a box of rigatoni pasta, dumped it into the water and added a pinch of salt.

  "Surreal. It's better though, now that you're home."

  "Have those vultures been out there all day?"

  "Since about three this afternoon. Once they realized I wasn't still at school they caravanned over here. Except for one reporter who was sharp enough to realize I wouldn't be staying long today."

  "Oh yeah? Which one was that?"

  "Barbie Montgomery. She's blonde and looks like she's twelve."

  "You didn't talk to her, did you?" David hoped not.

  "Yeah, but just a brief comment, one sentence. I don't think it'll be too bad." She bit her lower lip again. She'd been biting it all afternoon, worrying about how Barbie would showcase her statement.

  "You know what Evan said, you have to just say 'no comment', even if they provoke you."

  "I know. She got me at a weak moment. It won't happen again." She turned to the cupboard and got out two pasta bowls. Once the pasta drained, she filled the bowls and then added sauce and meatballs. "I hope you're hungry," she said as she handed David his dinner and they sat down to eat.

  David's stomach grumbled in response and he remembered he'd only eaten half his lunch. “I’m starving."

  They dug in as David told her about his lunch with Randy and when she started to look excited, he felt bad squashing her hopes by telling her what Jack had said and that he was not a suspect.

  "That's too bad. I was hoping they might be getting close on someone else."

  "Jack said they're still working hard on it, and that he and a few others aren't convinced that you did anything. There's still the other prints on the club. That should be enough to prove reasonable doubt, hopefully, and if they can figure out who those prints belong to they'll be closer to knowing who really did this."

  "We close on the house tomorrow. Is there any danger that won't happen now because of this?" Lauren felt like her whole world was crumbling around her.

  "It shouldn't. I think we would have been contacted by now if there was going to be a problem. As long as we show up with a big check, we should be okay." He smiled then, trying to lighten the mood and Lauren smiled back. She knew this must be incredibly hard on him as well.

  "How was everyone in the office?" she asked.

  “Fine. Billy assured me that he and Chuck give us their complete support." Lauren didn't need to know about the averted glances and awkward hesitations. He'd deal with it.

  "Good, I'd hate for this to make things difficult for you at work."

  "We should talk about the wedding though," David began. "Do we still want to go forward this weekend? Or do you think we should postpone? It's fine with me either way, but I feel badly that you won't get your dream wedding. That the vultures outside will ruin it."

  "And that people might not come,” she added. "I know. I've been thinking about this all day too, going back and forth on what's best. What do you think?" She knew what she wanted to do, but didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't sure of.

  "I'd like to still do it this weekend. I don't want to wait, unless you do." Lauren felt her first real moment of happiness in an otherwise horrible day.

  "I definitely want to go through with it. I can't wait to marry you."

  "We'll likely take a lot of criticism for not postponing, but I think it will show them how much I trust and support you as well."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  David met his grandfather the next evening, Tuesday, at the pub for their weekly dinner. The media was still camped outside the condo and David felt terrible for Lauren. She dreaded facing them so much that she was avoiding leaving the house unless it was absolutely necessary. When she did, several vans followed her wherever she went and called out to her the minute she got out of her car. They didn't do that with him. He'd never given them satisfaction of a second glance, let alone a comment they could use, so they didn't bother to follow him, just sat there waiting patiently for Lauren. Hoping she'd crack and give them something they could use.

  "It's pretty bad," he admitted to his grandfather after they'd put their dinner order in and were relaxing with their drinks and a bowl of peanuts.

  "What's Jack have to say? He got any other leads they're close on? Or are they putting all their energy on Lauren?"

  "I'm not sure. Jack doesn't say much. He has to be careful, considering my relationship to Lauren."

  "He could tell you if they've got anyone else they're seriously looking at though."

  "He said they're still working hard on it, exploring every lead. That's all I know." David sighed and reached for another peanut.

  "They set a date for trial yet?"

  "No, she goes back to court in two weeks and they'll set a date then I guess." They changed the subject for a bit and Gramps filled him in on all his neighborhood gossip. Their pizzas came right out and they dove in. The pub was starting to fill up as people streamed in after work.

  "That guy looks familiar," his grandfather said as a tall, sandy-haired guy wearing a blue blazer walked through the door and headed for the bar. His back was to David so he didn't recognize him at first, but then he turned, and when he saw David, gave a wave and walked over to their table.

  "Chuck, this is my grandfather. Gramps, Chuck is one of the partners at the firm."

  "Great to meet you, finally. David's mentioned you often over the years."

  "You, too," Gramps said as he reached for a slice of pizza.

  "Well, I just wanted to say hello, I won't keep you from your dinner."

  "You're welcome to join us," Gramps offered.

  "Thank you. I'm meeting a buddy here at the bar though, so I'm off to try and find a seat."

  He left and David and his grandfather resumed eating their pizza, which as usual was delicious.

  "So, you said you thought Chuck looked familiar? Did you think he was someone else?"

  Gramps thought about that for a moment.

  "No, I don't think so. It's just that I'd seen him somewhere recently. I recognized his baseball cap, the dark green with the blue emblem. It's from that golf club you and Lauren play at, right?"

  "Sure, I have the same one."

  "He has a matching jacket too, one of those windbreaker things, same color green."

  "Oh?" David grabbed a slice of the house special pizza, the Fenway, which had sausages, green peppers and onions. His grandfather ordered his usual, with sliced tomato, basil and fresh mozzarella.

  “Yeah, and I just remembered where I'd seen him. Last time Al and I were down at the lake, he was there, fishing. Al says he's seen him there a few other times."

  "No kidding, I never knew he liked to fish."

  "You'd be surprised what you don't know about people you think you know well." He grinned as he slid a fourth piece of pizza onto his plate. "I really shouldn't. Mouth says yes and stomach says no. Mouth wins, as usual."

  David reached for a fourth slice himself. This was also part of their routine. His grandfather always protested that he shouldn't eat so much, but couldn't help himself. His grandfather's comment made him wonder if he had any doubts about Lauren.

  "You know Lauren couldn't possibly have done this, right?"

/>   His grandfather looked up at him, his eyes serious now. "Are you asking me if I think she did this? Or if it's possible? Two different things. It's most certainly possible. It was her club; if she was really angry she could have whacked him good and then shoved his body into the lake. But do I think she did it? No, of course not. Why, are you having doubts?"

  "No!"

  "Good, because you're marrying her in what—three days now? Any doubt at all would be a hellava thing to have hanging over the marriage."

  "No doubt. I trust Lauren completely."

  "Good. Getting married now, instead of postponing is the right thing to do, and smart. You'll be sending that message publicly, and seems to me that girl needs all the support she can get."

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jack had never felt so torn up about a case before. He'd been excited when the idea of Randy as a suspect was raised, as it would have made sense for the killer to be someone like that; unlikeable and hot-tempered. The idea of Lauren as Eric Armstrong's killer had never made sense to him, not for a moment. Yet the evidence was compelling. And there was motive and there were rumors, and usually where there was smoke there was fire. Usually.

  Fortunately, the fact that there were other prints on the club in addition to hers could be enough reasonable doubt. He hoped so. Actually, what he really hoped for was a lead that would point him to the real killer and then Lauren would never have to worry about 'reasonable doubt.'

  He kept going over everything, all the details in the case. There had to be something they were overlooking. He had a request in to the judge to get permission to require fingerprint testing from all country club members and staff. Since the golf club had been taken from inside the country club, there was a strong likelihood that whoever removed it and used it as a weapon either worked there or was a member.

  There wasn't a guarantee that he'd be granted permission though. It could be viewed as an invasion of privacy. Jack was hoping the judge would see the necessity. He had a reputation for being reasonable.

  He spent the next hour and a half combing through the stack of paperwork pertaining to the case. Most of it he'd seen before, transcripts from all interviews with the family and Eric's friends, autopsy results that pointed to time and cause of death, and stuck inside the autopsy folder was a copy of Eric's birth and baptismal certificates.