“Crabbing rope is expensive. Perhaps he thought to tempt you with a fishing trip.” Cletus narrowed his eyes, but I could tell he was just teasing his sister.
“Come on, Cletus. Jackson said—and I quote”—Ashley dropped her voice to imitate Jackson’s—“‘Let me know if any new questions arise, or if someone has any good theories about where we should be looking’ end quote.”
“Hmm.”
“I see you, stroking your beard. I see that glimmer in your eye.” Ash lifted her soda bottle toward Cletus. “You like Jackson, admit it.”
“I don’t dislike him.”
She took a swig of the soda, her mouth curving on one side. “Well, anyway. I don’t have much longer before I gotta go, so let me finish.”
“You’ll find out who was driving, still an unknown, but we do know Elena and my father drove away.”
Ash nodded at my statement. “That’s right. According to Elena, they didn’t make it home. They turned around because Kip said he wasn’t ready to leave and wanted to get Diane alone, to see if they could come to some sort of understanding about walking Jenn down the aisle at the wedding.”
“Pardon me?” Cletus’s lip curled.
“Elena said Kip regretted causing a scene, and all he really wanted was to be recognized—or some such nonsense—and given his proper due as Jenn’s father.”
“Ugh.” He pressed a hand to his stomach. “Now I think I may need to empty my stomach.”
“Right?” Ash snorted, sending her brother a commiserating look. She glanced at me and her gaze turned immediately contrite. “Oh gosh, Jenn. I’m sorry. Listen to me, I’m awful. That wasn’t very nice of me. And—oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not feeling my best. I should’ve been more sensitive. He was your daddy and—”
“No. It’s fine. I know it’s frowned upon to speak ill of the dead, but the thought of my father walking me down the aisle makes me want to barf too.”
Ashley reached for my hand and squeezed. “If you don’t mind me asking, who is walking you down the aisle?”
“I asked Billy.”
Ashley’s grin was immediate.
“You did?” Cletus’s question drew my attention to him. The wrinkles lining his forehead, and the way his eyes had widened with what looked like wonder, struck me as incredibly cute.
“Yes. I know this might not make a lick of sense y’all, since I think I’m only about ten years younger than your brother, but he’s been very . . . paternal with me. You know? Or what I figured having an interested father would be like. Giving me good advice and always caring about what I’m thinking or feeling, checking in. He even remembered my birthday and told me he was proud of—of—what? What’s wrong?”
Ashley, quite abruptly, had burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I’m so sorry, it’s just—yes. I know what you mean. I know exactly what you mean.” Withdrawing her hand from mine, she covered her face. “These stupid hormones.”
Cletus’s gentle smile told me he approved of my choice. He then abruptly frowned. “Wait. Can he walk you down the aisle and be my best man?”
“You haven’t asked Billy to be your best man yet?” Ashley’s tears dried up as quickly as they’d started. “What the heck is wrong with you? Have you asked anyone?”
“I was getting around to it.” He sniffed, looking down his nose at his sister. “I have a list.”
“Well a list is no good if you don’t ask!” She banged a fist on the tabletop. “Jenn asked us ages ago.”
I nibbled my bottom lip, wondering if I should pick someone else to walk me down the aisle. I hadn’t meant to usurp Cletus’s intentions for his brother.
“Don’t fret, Jenn. Billy can do both, no rule against it. He’s used to multitasking. But—you—ask him soon. And everyone else on your list.” Ash narrowed her eyes on Cletus. “The wedding is a little over a month away. Time’s a tickin’. There’s tuxedo fittings, all sorts of things to schedule.”
“What? A tuxedo? No.” Cletus lifted the coffee cup again, and this time he did take a sip. He flinched, making a face like it was still too hot.
“You’re not wearing a tux?” His sister looked truly dismayed. “You better be in a tux. This wedding is going to be beautiful.”
“Nope. I want my groomsmen to wear coveralls. The real nice kind. Dickies.”
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, knowing that Cletus was teasing his sister. He might not have asked his groomsmen yet, but he’d already bought the tux he’d be wearing months ago from Billy’s bespoke suit tailor.
Ash leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “And you want me to make you the godfather of my child.”
Cletus, enjoying himself way too much, affixed a somber façade to his features. “Let’s stay on topic, shall we? What happened—according to Elena—when they got back to the lodge?”
“Fine. Elena says they parked. After that she doesn’t remember.”
“What?” I asked, the levity from moments ago forgotten. “She said what?”
“She says they parked the car. The next thing she remembers is the sheriff waking her up in the woods.”
“How is that possible?” I pressed, feeling my blood pressure spike.
“She was hit over the head.” Ash said, like this explained Elena’s loss of memory.
“In the car?” Cletus stroked his beard.
“She can’t say. But I do know she was definitely hit over the head. When I was with her that night, she was disoriented and had a legitimate contusion, a blunt force head trauma.”
Still stroking his beard, Cletus leaned forward. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Here’s something interesting. That list I gave you? They tested everyone on it for gunpowder residue. That’s what the marks next to the name are. Elena’s results came back positive—”
“Then she did it!” I sat up straight, jabbing an excited finger into the air.
“No, listen,” Ashley addressed me. “Her hands had gunpowder residue, but she explained this away by claiming she and Kip had gone shooting earlier in the day. Her story checked out, they had gone to a range. Plus, when they found Elena unconscious, she was wearing gloves, and the gloves had no residue on the outside.”
“What about my mother?”
Ashley gave me an encouraging smile. “Her test came back completely negative. No residue.”
“I have two more questions,” Cletus announced, waiting until we were both looking at him before asking, “When did Elena ask for a lawyer?”
Ashley licked her bottom lip, then bit it, her gaze dropping to the table. “I don’t know. Before I showed up, though. I can ask Jackson about that too.”
“Do that. Okay, second question, what kind of gloves did she have on?”
Ashley blinked, then stared straight ahead. “I don’t know. They were, uh, brown, I think? Sorry.”
Cletus smiled. His gaze, sparkling with mischief, came to me. “I think we have what we need.”