That was right about when I heard the first wails of the police sirens.
By the time I was back down on solid ground, Mack Raphael was bundled into the back of an unmarked police car. The heck with worrying about if he had or hadn’t ordered Vera Blaine’s murder; the cops were not happy when they arrived and found Raphael waving a gun in their direction.
Absalom had gotten ahold of the envelope and the precious photo inside. “You’ve got Reggie to thank for calling the cops,” he said. “And I’ve got to say, it’s still about the most harebrained stunt I’ve ever seen. You could’a been killed.”
“I wasn’t.” My knees were made of Elmer’s school glue, and I leaned against the pole. I was still trying to catch my breath when another unmarked car careened into the lot, slammed to a stop, and Quinn jumped out.
“What is wrong with you?” He was screaming at me before he was within ten feet, and my teammates got the message loud and clear; they scattered.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, thanks for asking.” I pulled myself upright, because if I was going to proclaim that I was fine, I figured I might as well look it. “What, were you listening to the police radio again? That’s how you knew what was going on?”
“I heard Raphael’s name mentioned. That was enough to convince me you were involved.” He grabbed me by the shoulders, and I think he would have shaken me if he thought he could get away with it. There was green fire in Quinn’s eyes. “I haven’t even heard half the story yet, and I’m pretty sure you just almost got yourself killed.”
“You’ll like the rest of the story.” I grinned. “I think you’re going to be able to close the case on Sammi Santiago’s murder. And with any luck, I have a feeling you’re going to get to rewrite the Jefferson Lamar case, too. Mack Raphael ordered Vera Blaine’s murder. He’s the one who framed the warden.”
“And you-”
Yeah, it’s not polite to interrupt, but I knew if I didn’t do something and do it quick, Quinn was going to read me the riot act. I was so not in the mood.
“I’m fine. You want to check me out?”
“I want to wring your neck.”
I sidled closer. “But you won’t.”
I guess he had to think about it, because he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sighed his surrender. “Look, Pepper… when I heard the call come in tonight… It was just like when I heard the call about the Lake View. That’s when I realized what was going on.”
“You did?” Since I was pretty sure the police call hadn’t said anything about Pepper Martin’s ability to talk to the dead, I couldn’t help but wonder what Quinn was getting at. “Do you mean-”
“I mean that’s when it finally hit me. When I thought something might have happened to you and I felt my stomach go cold and I realized that if you weren’t in my life… well, things just wouldn’t be the same. That’s when I knew it, Pepper. That’s when I knew I loved you.”
“You… love…” They were words I never thought I’d hear from Quinn, and now that I had, I could barely process the enormity of what he was saying. “Are you telling me-”
“I’m telling you that though I might want to spend my life with you, I don’t want to spend it worrying. I hate it that you’re putting yourself in danger. What would happen if next time-”
“There won’t be a next time. Cross my heart.” Yeah, it was the easy way out, but it was better to promise than it was to risk ruining the perfect, fairy-tale moment.
Good thing Quinn dragged me behind a nearby van where nobody could see us. He was so busy kissing me, he didn’t notice that behind my back, my fingers were crossed.
20
Team One’s section was beautiful. Every headstone in it had been carefully cleaned, and each and every one sparkled in the morning sunlight. The stone paths were pristine. I swear, the white flowers they’d planted in two huge urns bordering the entrance to the section came right off the cover of a Martha Stewart Living magazine.
It was impressive.
I was bummed.
“Hey, cheer up.” Absalom poked me in the ribs. We were standing on the sidelines watching the final judging, and with the camera rolling, he had to keep his voice down. “They got big bucks on their side, but no way they have our style.”
He was trying to make me feel better, so I smiled even though I didn’t feel like it.
After the points we’d scored for our bachelor auction, we were ten points behind Team One in the competition. Had their gorgeous landscaping sealed the deal and left us runners-up? We were about to find out.
When the judge from the art museum stepped forward, I held my breath.
“It’s all very lovely,” she said. “The lines are clean and pleasing. The flowers are cheery without being disrespectful. My fellow judges and I… we’re awarding Team One ten points.”
“Ten?” I groaned. “That means we’re twenty behind. We’re never going to catch up. Not twenty points.”
“Hey, team captain!” Reggie slapped me on the back. “You’re the one who usually gives the rah-rah speeches. Don’t lose faith now.”
I wished I could be so optimistic.
When Greer ordered us to get moving, we tromped over to our section. The judge’s words whirled through my head and for the first time since we’d planted our flowers, I second-guessed our color scheme. Our team had decided to honor Sammi with our plantings, and since we figured he had as much right to put in his two cents as anyone else, we consulted Virgil. He’d come up with the perfect plan, and he’d even chipped in to buy gigantic new flowerpots, too. They stood at the entrance to our section, jam-packed with flowers in Wonder Bread colors-red, yellow, white, and blue.
I guess the judges got the message, because as they neared our section, they stopped and took a careful look around. The guy from the Art Institute went a little pale.
When they were done with the flowers, they checked out our little fountain (we’d had a problem with the pump, and it wasn’t flowing as much as it was belching), and the bench we’d put nearby that we hadn’t been able to get perfectly level, no matter how hard we tried. They walked up and down the rows of headstones, stopping, checking, scratching comments in their notebooks. When they were done, they put their heads together and talked for so long, I thought I was going to burst from anticipation. Finally, the lady from the art museum stepped forward. Absalom was on one side of me, Delmar was on the other. I grabbed both their hands and held on for dear life.
“Well!” The art museum lady laughed, uncomfortable. “This section certainly isn’t restored as perfectly as Team One’s.” I stifled a curse. “But…”
The single word gave me hope. I tightened my hold on Absalom and Delmar.
“This section has a certain panache that demonstrates something the other section didn’t. Yes, cemeteries are places where we honor our dead. But they are also places where we celebrate the lives of the people who’ve gone before us. This section certainly shows that aspect of celebration. We’re awarding Team Two twenty points.”
“Twenty!” We whooped and hollered.
That is, until I did the math.
“We’re tied,” I said, and I knew that Team One realized it, too. That’s why they were throwing death-ray looks our way.
“The final points will be awarded once the Monroe Street volunteers arrive,” the art museum lady said. “That’s when the fundraising money will be turned over to them. The team that raised the most money will be our winner.”
“Cut!” Greer yelled, and while everyone scrambled around, getting ready for the next shot, my team and I gave each other high fives.
Oh yeah, we knew what was about to happen. We were about to be declared Cemetery Survivor winners.