Page 45 of Toxic Apple Turnovers
“Well, I’m anxious to marry this big strong man,” I say to Pastor Gaines, but I’m looking right into Noah’s deep green eyes.
Owlbert squawks, “What did I miss? Oh, a wedding! A wedding? I’ll have to call the others, Lottie. Oh, they’ll never forgive me.”
Noah threads his fingers through mine and kisses the back of my hand. “Our wedding will be the happiest day of my life, Lottie.”
A breath hitches in my throat, my stomach bisects with heat, and my insides explode with butterflies all at once. This, right here, is the very best feeling. A part of me wants to believe this is all real.
I clear my throat. It’s a struggle to break my gaze from Noah’s. “Pastor Gaines? Did Amanda ever confide in you about her life? You mentioned her relationship with Mark Russo was rocky. Do you think her fiancé would hurt her?”
“Heavens.” His eerie smile expands. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that, but a man with that much money should be severely scrutinized in my opinion.”
“I suppose it would hurt his ego if Amanda left him. But a man with money is never short on women.”
Noah lifts a brow. “That’s true, but maybe Amanda had something on him.” He looks to Pastor Gaines. “Or on someone else?”
The smile depletes from him momentarily, and he’s nearly unrecognizable. “Perhaps. A man like Mark Russo must have a secret or two. I suppose a man with money could make arrangements for that secret not to get out.”
I glance to Noah. Both Janelle and Slater mentioned that she was threatening to go the police over something.
“Strange, though.” I shrug over at Pastor Gaines. “You wouldn’t think a man like that would resort to poisoning someone. It’s such a horrible way to die.”
“It was quick.” His lids widen a notch. “I had just spoken to her, and no sooner did a few minutes go by than you had discovered the body. The thought of the poor girl suffering pains me so.” His lips quiver as if this were truly the case.
“She didn’t suffer long,” Noah offers. “The coroner confirmed she went quickly. Most likely passed out before she ever figured out what was happening. Her airways were constricting, and that might be why she went outside.”
Unless the killer lured her out there, but I keep that tidbit to myself.
Pastor Gaines tips his head to the side. “Come to think of it, I did see the man who was with her fiancé that night head out the door shortly after she left.”
“Chrissy?” I look to Noah. Could Chrissy be hiding under our radar this entire time?
Pastor Gaines picks up a small black Bible off his desk and opens it by way of a thin crimson ribbon.
“I’ve done more weddings than funerals, and for that I’m thankful. Shall we proceed?”
“Please,” I say as I turn to look at Noah. This is all in fun, all in the name of the investigation, but a tiny part of my heart wants this to be real.
Pastor Gaines produces that infamous smile of his as he looks to the two of us. “Lottie, Detective Fox, you are about to embark on the most wonderful journey of your lives.”
Noah gives my hand a squeeze. He’s so painfully handsome, I really could buy the fact he cleaned up just for our wedding day. His gaze penetrates mine so deeply that it feels as if he’s touching my very soul.
“Noah, do you take Lottie to be your wedded wife? To care for in sickness and in health, to comfort and honor her, forsaking all others so long as you both shall live?”
Noah’s eyes grow glassy as if his emotions were getting the better of him. “I do.”
Pastor Gaines takes a breath. “And, Lottie, do you promise to love this man as your wedded husband and forsake all others through the good times and the bad?”
My throat is so dry it burns. “Of course, I do.” I love Noah. This is easy. It almost feels as if this is what we were destined to do all along.
“Do you have a ring for the bride?” He looks to Noah.
“Actually.” Noah pats his pocket and frowns as if he meant it. “I think figurative rings will have to suffice for now.”
Pastor Gaines chuckles. “That is not a problem. Let these figurative rings act as a token to represent this union between the two of you for as long as you both shall live. I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Noah Fox. Detective, you may kiss your bride.”
Noah leans in hesitantly, pausing as his lips curve with joy. Noah bows down and kisses me, slowly at first, then with something just this side of all-out passion.
The sound of riotous applause breaks out, and my mouth falls open as I see all of the dead surrounding the two of us: the orange tabby, the quivering squirrel, Everett’s father, Dutch, the ornery bear up on its hind legs—its head nearly touching the ceiling—the sweet herd of paperwhite Chihuahuas, Macon, Greer, Winslow, and little Lea sitting on Beastie’s back, Max, Cookie, Owlbert, and, of course, Nell.