She scooped up the debris from the passenger side, tossed it into the back, and climbed in. She only hoped the seat was clean.
Detective Cold Fish was walking toward the car. He looked hot and harassed. His shirtsleeves were rolled up now, his tie yanked loose. Even as he tried to leave the scene, cops were pulling him aside to ask questions.
At last he slid in behind the wheel and slammed the door. Okay, where does your mother live? he asked.
Cape Elizabeth. Look, I can see youre busy
My partners holding the fort. Ill drop you off, talk to your mother, and swing by the hospital to see Reverend Sullivan.
Great. That way you can kill three birds with one stone.
I do believe in efficiency.
They drove in silence. She saw no point in trying to dredge up polite talk. Politeness would go right over this mans head. Instead, she looked out the window and thought morosely about the wedding reception and all those finger sandwiches waiting for guests whod never arrive. Shed have to call and ask for the food to be delivered to a soup kitchen before it all spoiled. And then there were the gifts, dozens of them, piled up at home. CorrectionRoberts home. It had never really been her home. She had only been living there, a tenant. It had been her idea to pay half the mortgage. Robert used to point out how much he respected her independence, her insistence on a separate identity. In any good relationship, hed say, privilege as well as responsibility was a fifty-fifty split. Thats how theyd worked it from the start. First hed paid for a date, then she had. In fact, shed insisted, to show him that she was her own woman.
Now it all seemed so stupid.
I was never my own woman, she thought. I was always dreaming, longing for the day Id be Mrs. Robert Bledsoe. Its what her family had hoped for, what her mother had expected of her: to marry well. Theyd never understood Ninas going to nursing school, except as a way to meet a potential mate. A doctor. Shed met one, all right.
And all its gotten me is a bunch of gifts I have to return, a wedding gown I cant return, and a day Ill never, ever live down.
It was the humiliation that shook her the most. Not the fact that Robert had walked out. Not even the fact that she could have died in the wreckage of that church. The explosion itself seemed unreal to her, as remote as some TV melodramas. As remote as this man sitting beside her.
Youre handling this very well, he said.
Startled that Detective Cold Fish had spoken, she looked at him. Excuse me?
Youre taking this very calmly. Calmer than most.
I dont know how else to take it.
After a bombing, hysteria would not be out of line.
Im an ER nurse, Detective. I dont do hysteria.
Still, this had to be a shock for you. There could well be an emotional aftermath.
Youre saying this is the calm before the storm?
Something like that. He glanced at her, his gaze meeting hers. Just as quickly, he looked back at the road and the connection was gone. Why wasnt your family with you at the church?
I sent them all home.
I would think youd want them around for support, at least.
She looked out the window. My familys not exactly the supportive type. And I guess I justneeded to be alone. When an animal gets hurt, Detective, it goes off by itself to lick its wounds. Thats what I needed to do. She blinked away an unexpected film of tears and fell silent.
I know you dont feel much like talking right now, he said. But maybe you can answer this question for me. Can you think of anyone else who mightve been a target? Reverend Sullivan, for instance?
She shook her head. Hes the last person anyone would hurt.
It was his church building. He wouldve been near the blast center.
Reverend Sullivans the sweetest man in the world! Every winter, hes handing out blankets on the street. Or scrounging up beds at the shelter. In the ER, when we see patients who have no home to go to, hes the one we call.
Im not questioning his character. Im just asking about enemies.
He has no enemies, she said flatly.
What about the rest of the wedding party? Could any of them have been targets?
I cant imagine
The best man, Jeremy Wall. Tell me about him.
Jeremy? Theres not much to say. He went to medical school with Robert. Hes a doctor at Maine Med. A radiologist.
Married?
Single. A confirmed bachelor.
What about your sister, Wendy? She was your maid of honor?
Matron of honor. Shes a happy homemaker.
Any enemies?
Not unless theres someone out there who resents perfection.
Meaning?
Lets just say shes the dream daughter every parent hopes for.
As opposed to you?
Nina gave a shrug. Howd you guess?
All right, so that leaves one major player. The one who, coincidentally, decided not to show up at all.
Nina stared straight ahead. What can I tell him about Robert, she thought, when I myself am completely in the dark?
To her relief, he didnt pursue that line of questioning. Perhaps hed realized how far hed pushed her. How close to the emotional edge she was already tottering. As they drove the winding road into Cape Elizabeth, she felt her calm facade at last begin to crumble. Hadnt he warned her about it? The emotional aftermath. The pain creeping through the numbness. She had held together well, had weathered two devastating shocks with little more than a few spilt tears. Now her hands were beginning to shake, and she found that every breath she took was a struggle not to sob.
When at last they pulled up in front of her mothers house, Nina was barely holding herself together. She didnt wait for Sam to circle around and open her door. She pushed it open herself and scrambled out in a sloppy tangle of wedding gown. By the time he walked up the front steps, she was already leaning desperately on the doorbell, silently begging her mother to let her in before she fell apart completely.
The door swung open. Lydia, still elegantly coiffed and gowned, stood staring at her dishevelled daughter. Nina? Oh, my poor Nina. She opened her arms.
Automatically Nina fell into her mothers embrace. So hungry was she for a hug, she didnt immediately register the fact that Lydia had drawn back to avoid wrinkling her green silk dress. But she did register her mothers first question.
Have you heard from Robert yet?
Nina stiffened. Oh please, she thought. Please dont do this to me.
Im sure this can all be worked out, said Lydia. If youd just sit down with Robert and have an honest discussion about whats bothering him
Nina pulled away. Im not going to sit down with Robert, she said. And as for an honest discussion, Im not sure we ever had one.
Now, darling, its natural to be angry
But arent you angry, Mother? Cant you be angry for me?
Well, yes. But I cant see tossing Robert aside just because
The sudden clearing of a male throat made Lydia glance up at Sam, who was standing outside the doorway.
Im Detective Navarro, Portland Police, he said.
Youre Mrs. Cormier?
The names now Warrenton. Lydia frowned at him.
What is this all about? What do the police have to do with this?
There was an incident at the church, maam. Were investigating.
An incident?
The church was bombed.
Lydia stared at him. Youre not serious.
Im very serious. It went off at 2:40 this afternoon. Luckily no one was hurt. But if the wedding had been held
Lydia paled to a sickly white. She took a step back, her voice failing her.
Mrs. Warrenton, said Sam, I need to ask you a few questions.
Nina didnt stay to listen. She had heard too many questions already. She climbed upstairs to the spare bedroom, where she had left her suitcase the suitcase shed packed for St. John Island. Inside were her bathing suits and sundresses and tanning lotion. Everything shed thought she needed for a week in paradise.
She took off the wedding dress and carefully draped it over an armchair where it lay white and lifeless. Useless. She looked at the contents of her suitcase, at the broken dreams packed neatly between layers of tissue paper. Thats when the last vestiges of control failed her. Dressed only in her underwear, she sat down on the bed. Alone, in silence, she finally allowed the grief to sweep over her.
And she wept.
LYDIA WARRENTON was nothing like her daughter. Sam had seen it the moment the older woman opened the front door. Flawlessly made up, elegantly coiffed, her slender frame shown to full advantage by the green gown, Lydia looked like no mother of the bride hed ever seen. There was a physical resemblance, of course. Both Lydia and Nina had the same black hair, the same dark, thickly lashed eyes. But while Nina had a softness about her, a vulnerability, Lydia was standoffish, as though surrounded by some protective force field that would zap anyone who ventured too close. She was definitely a looker, not only thin but also rich, judging by the room he was now standing in.
The house was a veritable museum of antiques. He had noticed a Mercedes parked in the driveway. And the living room, into which hed just been ushered, had a spectacular ocean view. A million-dollar view. Lydia sat down primly on a brocade sofa and motioned him toward a wing chair. The needlepoint fabric was so pristine-looking he had the urge to inspect his clothes before sinking onto the cushion.
A bomb, murmured Lydia, shaking her head. I just cant believe it. Who would bomb a church?
Its not the first bombing weve had in town.
She looked at him, bewildered. You mean the warehouse? The one last week? I read that had something to do with organized crime.
That was the theory.
This was a church. How can they possibly be connected?
We dont see the link either, Mrs. Warrenton. Were trying to find out if there is one. Maybe you can help us. Do you know of any reason someone would want to bomb the Good Shepherd Church?
I know nothing about that church. Its not one I attend. It was my daughters choice to get married there.
You sound as if you dont approve.
She shrugged. Nina has her own odd way of doing things. Id have chosen a moreestablished institution. And a longer guest list. But thats Nina. She wanted to keep it small and simple.
Simple was definitely not Lydia Warrentons style, thought Sam, gazing around the room.
Simple was definitely not Lydia Warrentons style, thought Sam, gazing around the room.
So to answer your question, Detective, I cant think of any reason to bomb Good Shepherd.
What time did you leave the church?
A little after two. When it became apparent there wasnt anything I could do for Nina.