The Suspect Groom

A man stood just inside. It was almost as if he were waiting for her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Trina stepped back, averting her gaze from his bared chest. All he wore was a robe.

“You must be the blushing bride,” he said.

“Blushing is correct.” With one hand, she shielded her eyes. With the other, she clutched her bathroom supplies and tried to hold her robe closed. “I didn’t know I was barging in on you.”

“I don’t mind. After all, you’re practically family. I’m Victor Stoddard, Ivan’s nephew from Juneau.”

She hadn’t even thought of Ivan’s family arriving for the wedding. To call it off would be dreadfully embarrassing.

“Aren’t you going to shake my hand, Trina?”

“Of course, I don’t mean to be rude.” If he wasn’t embarrassed, why should she be? She stuck out her hand and looked directly into his eyes. The family resemblance was unattractive on Victor. Where Ivan’s sharp features gave definition to his face, Victor’s were exaggerated. His cheekbones jutted outward, creating sunken cheeks. His nose was too large and pointed for his weak chin. She shook his hand quickly. “Pleased to meet you, Victor. I’m Trina Martin.”

“Soon to be Trina Martin Stoddard. My Auntie Trina.”

His weak grasp clung to her. His skin was still damp and clammy from the shower. She suppressed a sense of revulsion. “Are there other family members here?”

“There are no other family members. Both of my parents and my brother were killed in a small plane crash. About two years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That makes me Ivan’s only living relative.” He made no move to allow her into the bathroom. “Except for you, of course.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to my room and wait until you’re finished in the bathroom. Again, I’m sorry.”

“I’m finished.” When he stepped into the hall and brushed past her, he came a little too close for comfort. Trina dodged around him and slipped into the bathroom. She didn’t breathe comfortably until she’d locked the door.

Victor Stoddard was a strange and unpleasant man, but he was the least of her problems. Trina pushed him from her mind and concentrated on showering, washing and blow-drying her hair. Though she had already decided to wear her hair down for the wedding—if there was a wedding—she quickly wove a single braid down her back. This morning, she needed to get outside, to breathe the fresh air while she made her decision. If only she could spend some time with Ivan....

Trina dressed quickly and hurried downstairs to the kitchen where she met the housekeeper, Maybelle Ballou. She was a buxom, boisterous woman who immediately plied Trina with fresh-baked, chocolate chip muffins and coffee.

“You don’t look twenty-five,” Maybelle announced.

“I’ve had a rough life,” Trina countered.

“That’s a good thing, honey, because it’s about to get rougher. Alaska is no place for wimps.” Maybelle’s full mouth rolled down in a frown. “I hate to leave. Feels like I’m chickening out. But my kids are grown and gone and I want to spend some time seeing the rest of the world.”

“How many children do you have?”

“Six,” she said proudly. “And three different husbands. That’s another thing I’ll miss about Alaska. There aren’t many women up here, so even an old biddy like myself has her pick.”

Trina smiled into her coffee.

“Brace yourself, sweetie. Even when you’re married, they come sniffing around like tomcats.” She picked up a muffin and munched absently while she talked. “Now, let me tell you about the plans for today. The weather says we’re going to have a big storm, but we ought to be okay until late afternoon. Your guests are going to start arriving at about noontime.”

“Guests?”

“People from the town.”

“Juneau?”

“Lordy, no. Juneau’s nearly a hundred miles away. These are people from Osprey, which is only about twenty miles from here.” She winked. “It’s going to be fun. We’ll have a regular potlatch.”

“A what?”

“Potlatch. That’s what the Haida and Tlingit call it when everybody gets together to celebrate. In the old days, a good potlatch would go on for days, but I expect this is going to be a short party with the weather turning grim.”

“This seems like a lot of work for you,” Trina said. Perhaps futile work if she called off the wedding. “Can I help?”

“Certainly not. It’s your job today to be pretty and sweet.”

There was no point in arguing with Maybelle. This was a formidable woman who charged straight ahead, come hell or high water, like those rough-and-ready gold rush women from Alaskan legends. She was the type of woman who would thrive in Alaska. But what about Trina? Though she didn’t consider herself to be wimpish in the least, she wasn’t exactly rugged. Was she too citified to live in the backwoods? She’d definitely been frightened when she’d heard there’d been a murder. Ivan’s crude behavior affronted her. “I hope I’ll fit in.”

“Don’t worry, honey. You’ll do just fine.” Maybelle clapped her on the shoulder with bearlike strength. “Okay, so we got a crew from town coming and the people who are staying at the lodge. Only three of them. There’s that cute young couple, the Winkles. And Jacob Poynter.”

Maybelle dropped a pause. It was as if Trina should be impressed by Jacob Poynter, but she didn’t recognize the name.

“Jake Poynter,” Maybelle repeated. “He won a bronze medal in the Winter Olympics about ten years ago.”

“What event?”

“Biathlon. That’s the one where they cross-country ski and then shoot. Jake is quite the celebrity. And a great buddy of Ivan’s.” Her lips pursed. “That Ivan! Sometimes he annoys the heck out of me. He hasn’t even told me if he’s going to have a ceremony or what kind of ceremony. But if there’s a need for a best man, you can bet your bottom dollar that Jake’s got the job.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“And if you’re needing a matron of honor,” Maybelle said, “I’m free.”

“Thanks.” In spite of all her doubts, Trina brightened. She might actually be married today. There might be a ceremony where she would be the bride instead of the bridesmaid. “I have a dress,” she said. “Do you think I should wear it?”

“You betcha! A woman only gets married once for the first time.” Maybelle polished off her muffin. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Smart girl! First time I got hitched, I was only eighteen. And I’ll tell you this, I never was a little slip of a girl, but I wasn’t big enough to carry all that responsibility. No, ma’am. Now the second one, well, he was my true love. Every woman should be married to a true love. At least once in her life. And he was mine....”

Maybelle’s words rolled on as she continued with her kitchen chores, and Trina allowed the woman’s voice to lull her into a sense of warm complacency while she forgot, for a moment, about the pressing decision she needed to make. To wed or not to wed.

During a pause, while Maybelle checked in the industrial-size oven, Trina made her excuse. “I wanted to take a look around outside before it snows.”

“Bundle up, honey. It’s colder than it looks.”

Trina ran up to her room to grab her jacket, mittens and a red knitted cap, then she went outside. Overhead, the clouds began to mass, but the sky was still blue, and the glare off the snow was brilliant.

Reaching into her parka pocket, she took out the case for her eyeglasses and stuck the prescription sunglasses on her nose. About a hundred yards down the road, she closed her eyes, then whipped around. Her eyelids lifted. With corrected vision, she took in the sharp details of the crazy-quilt house that had been built one room at a time. The building stood amid several tall spruce at the foot of a rising slope. The porch was up five steps from the snow-covered ground. The exterior of the first floor was of stripped, polished logs. The second was clapboard siding. Just below the high, peaked roof was an Alaskan decoration, carved and painted in red, black and greenish blue. The design showed two huge, unblinking eyes, elaborately outlined. In the corners of the eaves were smaller ravens, wolves and bears, peering down like Alaskan gargoyles. The cheerful trim around the windows glistened with bright red paint.

Trina felt herself smiling. It was a strange, exotic-looking house, but she liked it. Would this be her home?