Page 155 of A Dead End Wedding

"Quit babbling, you two," called Mr. Ellison. "We're here."

I looked at the ramp leading up to the front porch of the center and wasn't sure I could stand to go inside. All the shakiness I thought I'd controlled back at my office washed over me again, and I nearly stumbled. Jake caught me with an arm around my waist and pulled me in close to him.

"Henry, I'm going to take December for a walk to get some fresh air. She's a little shaken up," he said.

Mr. Ellison turned around on the ramp and studied my face. "That's a good idea, Brody. You take good care of our girl."

"I will. Tell Celia and Nathan that we'll be along in a bit," he said.

I said nothing, just stood there numbly. The fact of Daisy's near-demise had brought another near-death to my mind. Mr. Ellison could have been killed. My entire body started shaking.

Jake helped me around the corner, to where a tiny park fronted Main Street. I followed, unresisting, visions of what the alligator had done to Max's office chair playing over and over again in my mind.

"What if it got him?" I looked up at Jake as we sat down on a bench near a vibrant azalea bush. "What if it ate Mr. Ellison, and all I found when I opened the door was . . . parts?" I heard myself getting hysterical and tried to stop it, taking deep, calming, azalea-scented breaths.

"What if he died, all because somebody was trying to warn me? What if Emily's kids had been outside when that person drove by with the shotgun? What if . . . w- w- what if?—"

Jake put his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, and I started crying in earnest. There's brave, and there's stubborn, and then there's stupid. Maybe if they want me gone so much, I should get myself gone.

When I calmed down enough that I was noticing how good Jake smelled, and enjoying the way he patted my back, I pulled away from him. I was still miserable, but now I was embarrassed, too. I rummaged in my purse for a tissue, and then wiped my face and blew my nose.

"I'm sorry I soaked your shirt," I said. "I'm just not used to being the potential cause of death for so many people."

That muscle in his jaw clenched again. "You're not the potential cause of anything, December. Somebody is out to warn you in a big way. We need to find out who. I've got feelers out on BDC, Langley, and Greenberg. As soon as I hear anything, believe me, you and Connors will be the first to know."

I shook my head. "I don't care. I mean, thanks, but it's not enough. What if I hurt somebody?"

I told him what I'd been thinking about Mr. Ellison and Emily's family. "These people don't care who gets hurt. What if Max had come to work first? What if . . . oh, God, what if the alligator got Max?"

I nearly started crying again, but I clenched my fingernails into my palms. "Maybe it's time to go along with theirsuggestions. Maybe it's time I moved back up north."

He folded his arms across his chest. "If you do that, they win," he said. "Are you really willing to do that? What about Celia and Nathan? Are you just going to leave them here, alone? What about Charlie Deaver?"

He was getting to me, as he'd planned. Reverse psychology works for a reason. But maybe not enough of a reason. "What if Celia and Nathan wind up getting hurt in the crossfire while I try to avoid a threat I don't even understand?"

He touched my cheek where the tears had probably made horrible track marks. (I never was a delicate crier; another reason I tried not to do it.) "December, I can't tell you what to do. Decide how far you're willing to let them push you."

I narrowed my eyes. I hated to be pushed. My dad had been the champion of pushing-December-around all my life. Now that I'd finally learned to stand up for myself, it rubbed me raw to think of buckling under to a cowardly, anonymous threat.

Stupid? Probably. But there was still time to leave. I just wanted to make a couple of phone calls first. I looked up at Jake. "I think it's time for me to push back."

We stopped in the bingo social, intending only to say hi and stay for a few minutes, but Mr. Ellison had spread the tale of the alligator escapades far and wide. Aunt Celia came running up and threw her arms around me, then burst into tears.

This made me get choked up again, and I hugged her back as fiercely as I could. Nathan walked up and cast a sideways look at Jake. "Sometimes you've got to let them get it out."

Jake nodded. "Yep."

Uncle Nathan pointed at Jake's soggy shirt. "Looks like you've been doing a spot of comforting yourself."

Jake nodded again. "Yep."

"Guess we'd better have a talk, son."

"Yes, sir," Jake said, and then he followed Uncle Nathan down the hall toward the rec room.

I pulled away from Aunt Celia, patting her on the arm, and stood staring after them. "What in the world was that about?" I asked her.

She patted her face off with a lace handkerchief she'd pulled out of a pocket. Celia, unlike me, was the epitome of a delicate crier. She got glowy. I got soggy.

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