“Unclear. It took a fair amount of digging for me to unearth his tracks, and it’s unlikely either BPD or the Scafidi family has my particular skillset in that department. But he has not, historically, been the sharpest knife in the drawer. If he hasn’t slipped up yet, he will.”
Trey turned back to the window, looking down at the green and all the people. “Where is he now?”
“He left hi
s car—a rental—parked down past the Baptist Church and was, last I saw, headed into the diner, presumably to acquire information on the location of the wedding, since your wife refused to tell him. Not that it’s hard to guess given the setup going on down there. The whole thing is a tactical nightmare. No way to secure the area, certainly not without alarming the populace. And neither of us has the authority to do that anyway.”
No. His money could buy all sorts of things, but full control of the town wasn’t one of them. “In your professional opinion, do you think there’s a legitimate threat?”
Kane didn’t hesitate. “Unlikely. But if Wishful PD were to pick up and detain Crawford until the FBI agents I tipped off last night could get here from Baltimore, I imagine that would earn them considerable goodwill.” He flashed a rare smile. “I still have a few friends.”
Was this really so simple? And was it the right thing? Waylan had made his metaphoric bed. Was it so wrong to make certain he had to lie in it? This certainly seemed the easiest solution to ensuring he couldn’t crash the wedding.
Trey picked up the phone and dialed. “I’d like to speak with Chief Greer, please.”
~*~
“God, you look so handsome.” Sandy pinned the red rose boutonniere on Cam’s lapel and just looked at him—her sweet, steady son—tears pricking her eyes. He’d grown into such a good man.
Never one to miss the subtleties, he cupped his hands beneath her elbows and frowned. “Mom?”
She sniffed. “Don’t mind me. I’m just having a moment. You were six years old yesterday, and now you’re about to walk down the aisle to marry a wonderful woman and start your life together. I’m a little emotional.” She brushed imaginary lint off his tux jacket shoulders.
Cam looked to his groomsmen. “Can y’all give us a few minutes?”
“Sure thing,” Tucker said. He and Brody headed for the door.
Mitch paused, slapping a hand on Cam’s back. “You’ve got five minutes before you need to head down to the fountain, cuz. Make it quick. If you’re late, I just might marry Norah myself.”
Cam grinned. “Keep dreaming.”
“Every day, cuz. Every day.”
The door shut quietly behind Mitch, and Cam’s attention shifted back to Sandy, the grin fading. “I’m worried about you.”
She was worried about his father. Through all the preparations today, she’d kept an eye out for Waylan, but so far there’d been no sign. She wanted desperately for this wedding to go off without a hitch, so that Cam and Norah’s memory of the day wouldn’t be tainted with spectacle and disaster. Which meant she said nothing of her confrontation with Waylan at Tosca last night.
“I’m fine, baby. Truly.”
He gave her a look like he knew damned well that was a lie. “You know, I just want one thing as a wedding present.”
“If it’s in my power, I’ll give it.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” What else could she be on the day of her son’s wedding?
“Mom.” The single syllable stopped whatever argument she would’ve made.
Clearly, she needed to work on her acting skills.
“You’ve spent your entire life doing everything for me. And I’m grateful. So damned grateful, because nobody could’ve had a better mom. But I’m getting married today. And it’s long past time for it to be your turn to find what I’ve got with Norah.”
His words re-opened the wound to her heart that hadn’t stopped bleeding for days. She’d thought she’d found it. She’d thought life had miraculously brought her full circle, back to the man she’d always loved. But she didn’t know how to be the kind of woman who let someone else fight her battles.
“Talk to Trey.”
She certainly didn’t want to talk about this with Cam. “That’s complicated, baby.”