“I know, I know. But Father Simon said he’d be honored to officiate, Ange. He said he’d love to marry you guys! How freaking cool is that?”
Memories from more than thirty years ago rushed through Angie. The chilling sound of cathedral bells. Snow. Christmas Eve. Her being stuffed into a cradle opposite the Catholic cathedral in Vancouver. A choir singing the haunting strains of “Ave Maria” in the church as a gun battle erupted outside. Then, last winter, her and Maddocks interviewing Father Simon about a young woman’s death.
“Angie? Are you there?”
“I ... I’m here.”
Ginny’s tone shifted to one of caution, concern. “Father Simon said he’d do anything to help the woman who fought so hard to find Gracie Drummond’s killer, Angie. I spoke to my choirmaster. So did Lara Pennington. She was one of Gracie’s friends who worked for the floating brothel aboard theAmanda Rose, remember? She’s so deeply grateful that you found the Baptist and stopped him.”
Stopped him by killing him. Overkilling him. It cost my career.
“You saved her, Ange. Her life changed because of you. She’s become a volunteer at the Haven shelter for street kids. She’s started to sing like a pure angel, you know. She’s digging deep, and her talent knows no bounds. It’s because of you, she said. Because you and Dad helped her back to a solid place, a place where she’s starting to let go of fear. Bottom line, my whole choir wants to sing at your wedding.”
Emotion sparked into Angie’s eyes. These words gave her past value, in spite of the personal cost.
“Ginny,” she said, “I’m not ready to even begin to think about these sorts of decisions. I need—”
“Yeah, yeah, you need to talk to Dad and all, and I know you haven’t attended a Catholic Mass since you were a kid, but Father Simon says he can work it all out. Just say yes. Let us organize the rest.”
Angie stared fiercely at her reflection on the salt-grimed window, her mind spinning.
“Angie?”
She cleared her throat. “Ginn, thank you. This is a wonderful option. When I’m done with this case, I’ll see how things stand with your dad, and—”
“I ... uh, sorta gave Father Simon a date.”
“What?”
“Just to block it off on the church calendar. You need to book these things way in advance, Angie. You can always cancel.”
Her hand tensed on her phone. “Whatdate?
“April twenty-seventh. It’s a Saturday. The cherry blossoms will be out. The streets will be all pink and white.”
Shit.She wanted to be mad at this kid. At the same time, she loved the young woman for what she was doing.
“Angie?”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I need to think.”
“Okay, then think. Work on your case, and leave the rest to me.”
“What ... rest?”
“Just exploring some venues for a reception, that’s all. Before you protest, that’s all it is, just kicking tires so if it all comes together, we’re ready.”
We.
She had family in this kid. Ginny was showing Angie that while her past behavior had scored her enemies, it had also made her friends. There were people out there who were grateful, who respected her. That meant the world to Angie. Especially now. It fed her fire to achieve that dream of opening her own PI agency. A firm that would help others find answers during rocky periods of their lives.
Trepidation, nerves, excitement churned through her belly. “I should be furious at you, Ginn.”
Ginny laughed a little nervously, and then her voice caught on a snare of emotion. “I know this is going to happen,” she said. “You and my father belong together. So if you want to get mad, go right ahead, but I’m going to help this happen behind the scenes.”
The waitress, Babs, appeared at Angie’s table. “Hey, hon, got your order. One fried chicken sandwich and a side of piping-hot fries.”
Angie shot a look at Babs. “Ginn, I gotta go. Just ... don’t do anything you can’t take back, okay?”
