Page 69 of Head Room (Caught Dead in Wyoming #15)

The cavalry arrived almost before they were needed, with Richard and another deputy taking Miles into custody.

Shelton ordered all of us to the sheriff’s department.

And then Shelton had the gall to want to ask questions — questions! — when the hour of my wedding was nearing.

He kept us waiting and waiting.

During the wait, Diana assessed the damage from the oily stuff thrown at me.

The good news was he’d missed my hair. It took a fair amount of scrubbing to get it off my face. The t-shirt was a loss.

Russ Conrad showed up.

Diana stood. “Russ. The wedding—”

“Sorry,” he said, and kept going down the hall toward the back.

They fed us lunch. Stale chicken salad sandwiches.

Not the serene repast Mom planned at my house before a leisurely break, followed by arriving at the church with plenty of time to spare.

I messaged her an apology, but didn’t respond to multiple return messages.

Richard appeared. “Diana, come on back.”

“Take Elizabeth first—”

“They said you.”

Another half hour, then he came for Mike and Jennifer, without any sign of Diana.

This time, I messaged Mom that she should take my dress and Diana’s to the church, and we’d be there as soon as possible.

Shelton finally announced — by way of the nice young female deputy, presumably because Richard didn’t want to face me — that he would deign to see me.

I tried not to show my grim pleasure when my phone dinged with an incoming message just before I sat down.

“It’s my mother,” I said without looking up, then took the time to respond.

I did not echo the number of exclamation points she used.

Not waiting for questions, not maneuvering for advantage, not holding back at all, I went through what I knew from start to finish as fast as I could.

“I think that’s clear,” Russ started.

I already had my hands on the table, standing up.

Shelton, the sneaky you-know-what, nearly knocked me over by saying, “Thank you.”

I righted myself in time to rush out the interview room door and right into Diana, who was holding the exterior door open, with her truck waiting at the curb.

“Get in,” she ordered.

“Where were you?” I asked, but only once I’d complied and she’d pressed the accelerator to the floorboards.

“That nice young female deputy gave me a ride to the station so I could get my truck — Shelton even told her it was okay. Mike and Jennifer left a while ago to get ready and get to the church on time.”