Page 30 of I'll Be There
“You’ve got the wrong guy!”
His captor hauled him to his feet.
“I’m not the shooter!”
Conner glanced back toward the armory, spotted Pete and Reuben near the entrance, Romeo nearby. And running through the crowd, a couple EMTs with their go bags.
Please, Blue, live.
“Save it for the Mounties, Rambo,” Big Man said and grabbed Conner’s arm again, this time in a lumberjack grip deserving of the man’s size.
It was only as Big Man pushed Conner away from the gathering crowd that Conner realized he’d never got hold of Blue’s thumb drive.
A reception in an ice arena felt a little like having a party in a fallout shelter.
Or a tomb.
The breath of the dead seeped into Liza’s skin as Grace opened the door, setting down the door stop and flicking on the lights to the ice arena. Not a brightly lit, domed building like bigger arenas, the Deep Haven ice arena had been converted from a former emergency vehicle garage, the ceiling crossed with dusty beams. On the far end, a raised platform offered a space for a band, or maybe a head table.
Still, short of the school gymnasium, where the floors had recently been revarnished, Liza had run out of options of where to hold her reception.
“It’s not so bad,” Grace said, keeping her jacket on, blowing on her hands. “We’ll ask them to turn off the cooling units, and once we get tables in here, along with some draping and pine trees, string the twinkly lights, it’ll be beautiful.”
Liza affected a smile at Grace’s enthusiasm. Frankly, fatigue had simply shut her down, rendered her incapable of argument.
Around four in the morning, she’d finally climbed into her car, locked the doors, and curled up with a blanket, sinking down in her back seat.
Her own personal panic room.
But she never fell fully asleep, the buzz of worry keeping her from collapsing into exhaustion.
Two days.
She should have told Conner about the nightmares last night, when he had looked at her with sincere concern. But that was exactly why she couldn’t—she’d led him to believe she was fine.
He deserved better than the mess she’d turned out to be.
If she had the strength to admit that, then maybe they wouldn’t be throwing together this wreck of a reception.
Grace came up to her. “I have an entire army of Christiansens and Deep Haven friends willing to help pull this together. We just need you to say yes.”
“Yes.”
“Perfect,” Grace said, pulling out her phone. “My dad already talked to the local nursery about bringing in potted trees, and Annalise Dekker is head of the hospitality committee at the church—she’s rounding up more tables. Raina is contacting Pierre’s to see if they have chafing dishes, and Darek and Casper found the muscle to transfer the tables from the community center—they called Coach Caleb and enlisted the help of the football team.”
She texted as she talked. “I have twinkle lights in my car—I called Noelle Hueston—she always has thousands of them on her house, and she’s lending us her stash.” She looked up as she started to walk. “All we have to do is make sure you and your groom have that meeting with Pastor Dan, and we’ll be all set.”
“Meeting?” Liza followed Grace out to her SUV. Her eyes widened a little at the number of boxes shoved into the back.
“My mom is watching Yulia for me, or she’d be down helping. But they’re working on tonight’s party.”
“Tonight’s party?” Liza asked as Grace piled a box into her arms.
“You don’t think only the guys get to have a bachelor party, do you?” Grace winked.
Right. “You didn’t have to do that—”
“Oh, yes I did. Listen, Max and I eloped, so I didn’t get all the fuss. Not that I minded—much—but if I can pamper you, I’m going to.” She closed her tailgate and picked up her boxes. “Twinkly light time!”
