A Totally Killer Wedding by D.A. Wilkerson

Author:D.A. Wilkerson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dana Wilkerson, LLC

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Aunt Star bought my birthday lunch from Dairy Queen, but we got it to-go so we could eat at home and discuss the case without anyone overhearing. As she drove us back to the house, I pulled my Dilly Bar out of the bag.

In between bites of chocolate-covered ice cream, I restated everything we knew about the case, with Aunt Star jumping in on occasion. We couldn’t come to any conclusions about why Suzanne was a more viable suspect than anyone else on our list.

“We may have to wait until tonight to find out anything else,” she said.

“Tonight? How will tonight help us?”

“Birthday drinks ... with Darren?”

“Oh yeah. You think he’ll tell us anything?” I asked as I picked a chunk of chocolate from my shirt and popped it into my mouth.

“Probably not, but we can try.”

Darren didn’t drink, so we couldn’t try to get him drunk and hope he’d spill the beans. Aunt Star had her ways of getting men to open up, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to see them.

After lunch Aunt Star dropped me back off at the church. The afternoon dragged on, with lots of calls from curious church members but no more relevant information.

On Monday afternoons I typically checked all the Sunday school classrooms to make sure everything was in its place and to see if any supplies were running low. I couldn’t do that and answer the phone, though, and nobody else was around.

The Cokers had gone home to the parsonage across the parking lot. The church phone line also rang over there, so they’d know if I didn’t answer it. Pastor Coker wouldn’t mind and would even answer it himself if it kept ringing, but his wife wouldn’t answer on principle, since it was my job during office hours. Greg had left to grab a late lunch and then stop by a few places around town to see if he could learn anything new.

I sat and stared at the washateria through the window. I wondered if anyone else had gone in after Minnie left. Surely someone else had seen Suzanne there and could verify her whereabouts.

I couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening any longer and called the Cokers’ personal phone line at the parsonage. Veronica picked up.

Without any preamble I said, “Have you found out anything else?”

“Hello to you, too, Beckett.”

I felt bad for being rude, but she had been rude right back, so I didn’t respond.

“No, I haven’t heard anything,” she finally said. “I’ve tried calling Suzanne’s number and going by her house to see if the police have let her go or if she’s out on bail or something, but I got no response.”

Since no one close to me had ever been arrested, I wasn’t sure how long the police could keep people before charging them with a crime or letting them go. I doubted I could trust what I had learned from novels and TV shows. The police in those situations didn’t usually follow the rules. Though I

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