You mentioned smoke. What color was the smoke?
What?
Was it black? White?
Does it matter?
Just answer the question, please.
She gave an exasperated sigh. It was white, I think.
You think?
All right. Im sure. She turned to look at him. For the first time she really focused on his face. If hed been smiling, if thered been even a trace of warmth, it would have been a pleasant enough face to look at. He was in his late thirties. He had dark brown hair that was about two weeks overdue for a trim. His face was thin, his teeth were perfect, and his deep set green eyes had the penetrating gaze one expected of a romantic lead movie cop. Only this was no movie cop. This was an honest-to-goodness cop with a badge, and he wasnt in the least bit charming. He was studying her with a completely detached air, as though sizing up her reliability as a witness.
You mentioned smoke. What color was the smoke?
What?
Was it black? White?
Does it matter?
Just answer the question, please.
She gave an exasperated sigh. It was white, I think.
You think?
All right. Im sure. She turned to look at him. For the first time she really focused on his face. If hed been smiling, if thered been even a trace of warmth, it would have been a pleasant enough face to look at. He was in his late thirties. He had dark brown hair that was about two weeks overdue for a trim. His face was thin, his teeth were perfect, and his deep set green eyes had the penetrating gaze one expected of a romantic lead movie cop. Only this was no movie cop. This was an honest-to-goodness cop with a badge, and he wasnt in the least bit charming. He was studying her with a completely detached air, as though sizing up her reliability as a witness.
She gazed back at him, thinking, Here I am, the rejected bride. Hes probably wondering whats wrong with me. What terrible flaws I possess that led to my being stood up at the altar.
She buried her fists in the white satin mounded on her lap. Im sure the smoke was white, she said tightly. For whatever difference that makes.
It makes a difference. It indicates a relative absence of carbon.
Oh. I see. Whatever that told him.
Were there any flames?
No. No flames.
Did you smell anything?
You mean like gas?
Anything at all?
She frowned. Not that I remember. But I was outside the building.
Where, exactly?
Reverend Sullivan and I were sitting in his car. In the parking lot around the side. So I wouldnt have smelled the gas. Anyway, natural gas is odorless. Isnt it?
It can be difficult to detect.
So it doesnt mean anything. That I didnt smell it.
Did you see anyone near the building prior to the explosion?
There was Reverend Sullivan. And some of my family. But they all left earlier.
What about strangers? Anyone you dont know?
No one was inside when it happened.
Im referring to the time prior to the explosion, Miss Cormier.
Prior?
Did you see anyone who shouldnt have been there?
She stared at him. He gazed back at her, green eyes absolutely steady. You mean are you thinking
He didnt say anything.
It wasnt a gas leak? she said softly.
No, he said. It was a bomb.
She sank back, her breath escaping in a single shocked rush. Not an accident, she thought. Not an accident at all.
Miss Cormier?
Wordlessly she looked at him. Something about the way he was watching her, that flat, emotionless gaze of his, made her frightened.
Im sorry to have to ask you this next question, he said. But you understand, its something I have to pursue.
She swallowed. Whatwhat question?
Do you know of anyone who might want you dead?
Two
This is crazy, she said. This is absolutely nuts.
I have to explore the possibility.
What possibility? That the bomb was meant for me?
Your wedding was scheduled for two oclock. The bomb went off at 2:40. It exploded near the front row of pews. Near the altar. Theres no doubt in my mind, judging by the obvious force of the blast, that you and your entire wedding party would have been killed. Or, at the very least, seriously maimed. This is a bomb were talking about, Miss Cormier. Not a gas leak. Not an accident. A bomb. It was meant to kill someone. What I have to find out is, who was the target?
She didnt answer. The possibilities were too horrible to even contemplate.
Who was in your wedding party? he asked.
She swallowed. There wasthere was
You and Reverend Sullivan. Who else?
Robert my fiancé. And my sister, Wendy. And Jeremy Wall, the best man.
Anyone else?
My father was going to give me away. And there was a flower girl and a ring bearer
Im only interested in the adults. Lets start with you.
Numbly she shook her head. It it wasnt me. It couldnt be me.
Why couldnt it?
Its impossible.
How can you be sure?
Because no one would want me dead!
Her sharp cry seemed to take him by surprise. For a moment he was silent. Outside, on the street, a uniformed cop turned and glanced at them. Sam responded with an everythings fine wave of the hand, and the cop turned away again.
Nina sat clutching the rumpled hem of her gown. This man was horrid. Sam Spade without a trace of human warmth. Though it was getting hot in the car, she found herself shivering, chilled by the lack of obvious emotion displayed by the man sitting beside her.
Can we explore this a little more? he said.
She said nothing.
Do you have any ex-boyfriends, Miss Cormier? Anyone who might be unhappy about your marriage?
No, she whispered.
No ex-boyfriends at all?
Not not in the last year.
Is that how long youve been with your fiancé? A year?
Yes.
His full name and address, please.
Robert David Bledsoe, M.D., 318 Ocean View Drive.
Same address?
Weve been living together.
Why was the wedding cancelled?
Youd have to ask Robert.
So it was his decision? To call off the wedding?
As the expression goes, he left me at the altar.
Do you know why?
She gave a bitter laugh. Ive come to the earth-shattering conclusion, Detective, that the minds of men are a complete mystery to me.
He gave you no warning at all?
It was just as unexpected as that She swallowed. As that bomb. If thats what it was.
What time was the wedding called off?
About one-thirty. Id already arrived at the church, wedding gown and all. Then Jeremy Roberts best man showed up with the note. Robert didnt even have the nerve to tell me himself. She shook her head in disgust.
What did the note say?
That he needed more time. And he was leaving town for a while. Thats all.
Is it possible Robert had any reason to
No, its not possible! She looked him straight in the eye. Youre asking if Robert had something to do with it. Arent you?
I keep an open mind, Miss Cormier.
Roberts not capable of violence. For Gods sake, hes a doctor!
All right. For the moment, well let that go. Lets look at other possibilities. I take it youre employed?
Im a nurse at Maine Medical Center.
Which department?
Emergency room.
Any problems at work? Any conflicts with the rest of the staff?
No. We get along fine.
Any problems at work? Any conflicts with the rest of the staff?
No. We get along fine.
Any threats? From your patients, for instance?
She made a sound of exasperation. Detective, wouldnt I know if I had enemies?
Not necessarily.
Youre trying your damn best to make me feel paranoid.
Im asking you to step back from yourself. Examine your personal life. Think of all the people who might not like you.
Nina sank back in the seat. All the people who might not like me. She thought of her family. Her older sister, Wendy, with whom shed never been close. Her mother, Lydia, married to her wealthy snob of a husband. Her father, George, now on his fourth wife, a blond trophy bride who considered her husbands offspring a nuisance. It was one big, dysfunctional family, but there were certainly no murderers among them.
She shook her head. No one, Detective. Theres no one.
After a moment he sighed and closed his notebook. All right, Miss Cormier. I guess thats all for now.
For now?
Ill probably have other questions. After I talk to the rest of the wedding party. He opened the car door, got out, and pushed the door shut. Through the open window he said, If you think of anything, anything at all, give me a call. He scribbled in his notebook and handed her the torn page with his name, Detective Samuel I. Navarro, and a phone number. Its my direct line, he said. I can also be reached twenty-four hours a day through the police switchboard.
ThenI can go home now?
Yes. He started to walk away.
Detective Navarro?
He turned back to her. She had not realized how tall he was. Now, seeing his lean frame at its full height, she wondered how hed ever fit in the seat beside her. Is there something else, Miss Cormier? he asked.
You said I could leave.
Thats right.
I dont have a ride. She nodded toward the bombed-out church. Or a phone either. Do you think you could give my mother a call? To come get me?
Your mother? He glanced around, obviously anxious to palm off this latest annoyance. Finally, with a look of resignation, he circled around to her side of the car and opened the door. Come on. We can go in my car. Ill drive you.
Look, I was only asking you to make a call.
Its no trouble. He extended his hand to help her out. Id have to go by your mothers house anyway.
My mothers house? Why?
She was at the wedding. Ill need to talk to her, too. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
What a gallant way to put it, she thought.
He was still reaching out to her. She ignored his outstretched hand. It was a struggle getting out of the car, since her train had wrapped itself around her legs, and she had to kick herself free of the hem. By the time shed finally extricated herself from the car, he was regarding her with a look of amusement. She snatched up her train and whisked past him in a noisy rustle of satin.
Uh, Miss Cormier?
What? she snapped over her shoulder.
My cars in the other direction.
She halted, her cheeks flushing. Mr. Detective was actually smiling now, a full-blown ate-the-canary grin.
Its the blue Taurus, he pointed out. The doors unlocked. Ill be right with you. He turned and headed away, toward the gathering of cops.
Nina flounced over to the blue Taurus. There she peered in disgust through the window. She was supposed to ride in this car? With that mess? She opened the door. A paper cup tumbled out. On the passenger floor was a crumpled McDonalds bag, more coffee cups, and a two-day-old Portland Press Herald. The back seat was buried under more newspapers, file folders, a briefcase, a suit jacket, and of all things a baseball mitt.