Bachelor No More. Victoria Pade

for himself that I hadn’t had anything to do with the robbery. But that if I left with Frank the law would come after me too, the same as if I had been in on it, that I would be guilty by association. He even threatened to say I was guilty.”

      “And you still left?” an FBI agent inquired.

      “Before I could even think about it, Frank came up from behind us and grabbed Armand. Frank was in a state I’d never seen him in before—enraged and scared and I don’t even know what. He said he had to kill Armand and bury him with Mickey.”

      “But obviously he didn’t kill the Reverend,” a skeptic in the crowd interjected.

      “I begged on my knees for him not to,” Celeste said. “I told him if he didn’t hurt Armand I would go with him, I would do whatever he wanted.”

      “So you saved his life,” Jared said.

      “I told Cam that last week. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m not sure I should take the credit since it was my fault Armand was there in the first place. Because of me, his life was in jeopardy. If Frank had killed him, it would have been my fault, so it was my responsibility to get him out of that situation. But I did tell Frank that if he killed Armand, he would have to kill me, too, because if he didn’t, I’d turn him in myself.”

      Celeste seemed to be tiring, but still she continued.

      “It took a lot of begging and pleading and bargaining.I had to swear that I would leave with Frank if only he wouldn’t hurt Armand, and Armand had to promise that he wouldn’t even say which direction we went when we left. But finally Frank agreed not to harm Armand. He just tied him up in the woods and we took off.” Celeste lowered her voice. “And that was when the life I thought I’d wanted out of became something I wished every day that I’d hung on to.”

      Celeste’s head dropped and she shook it back and forth, back and forth, in deep, deep regret.

      “Go ahead,” Cam encouraged her.

      After a moment Celeste said, “When we left Northbridge we went north and, after a few months, ended up in Alaska. By then I was an awful mess. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t stop crying, and when I’m upset, I eat. A lot.”

      She laughed a mirthless laugh and motioned to her girth. “I guess you all can see just how upset I was. Frank didn’t like it, of course. The pretty, skinny young thing he’d met here had disappeared and I was…I was just a mess,” she repeated. “It wasn’t as if it was a relationship founded on anything real to begin with, and Frank got more and more disgusted and impatient with me. But still I didn’t expect him to steal the little bit of money I’d saved over the years and taken with me when I’d left Armand—”

      “The man robbed you, too?” Cam asked, seeming shocked.

      “One night while I was asleep,” Celeste said. “I don’t know why he had to do that. He had all the bank money—of course he’d taken Mickey’s share. He kept it in lockers in the bus terminal or train station of whatever city we were in to make sure it was locked away even from me. So it wasn’t as if I’d ever touched a penny of it, and my measly $167 couldn’t have mattered to him. But yes, he took that, too. And left me alone and penniless in a motel room in Alaska.”

      Celeste took a deep breath and sighed. “After that there isn’t a lot to tell. I didn’t really know if the authorities were looking for me or not, but after what Armand had said I couldn’t take any chances. What I wanted more than anything was just to come back here and be with my boys again, and even though I knew that couldn’t happen, I started taking any job I could get—usually waiting tables—and every time I’d get enough money saved for a bus ticket, I’d come as far as I could toward Northbridge. I thought that if I couldn’t be with Carl and Jack, then maybe I could at least be near them. And that’s how I ultimately came home to Northbridge again. But I’ve already told that story and it probably isn’t what anyone wants to hear now.”

      She had told the story—first to Cam when he’d discovered who she was, and later to Mara. She’d told them of living in several towns around North bridge, hungry for any gossip, any news whatsoever that might give her information about her sons. Then, one day, she’d tested her theory that the weight gain had left her unrecognizable, and she realized it was possible for her to be in the heart of North bridge without anyone knowing who she really was. So she’d moved back to the small town in order to at least be where she could see her sons—and eventually, her grandchildren—from a distance; she’d lived since 1970 on the sidelines of all but the Pratt family.

      “The Reverend has been out of town since you initially talked to me,” Cam said then. “And because he’s been unreachable, we haven’t been able to speak to him—”

      “Which will have to be done to see if he confirms your account,” one of the state police detectives added. “So if there’s anything you’d like to add, this would be the time.”

      “There’s nothing to add. I’ve told you the simple truth,” Celeste said wearily.

      From there more detailed questions were asked of Celeste, trying to pinpoint where Frank Dorian might have stashed the bank money before being caught by FBI agents and killed while trying to escape. But Celeste’s only answer to nearly every question from then on was that she didn’t know. She swore that she’d never seen Frank Dorian again after he’d abandoned her in Alaska, and she had no idea where he went or what he might have done with the money from the bank robbery. And regardless of how many times and in how many variations the questions were asked, she couldn’t tell them something she didn’t know.

      “I only know that I was never the recipient of any of the money Frank and Mickey took,” she said, emphasizing each word after some less-than-subtle badgering.

      “And, in fact, she was victimized herself by Frank Dorian robbing her of her own money,” Jared reminded, his own patience stretched thin.

      There were other questions, as well, that Mara saw no purpose for, but Celeste endured each one until the authorities finally agreed, long after dark, that they had no more to ask her. For the time being.

      She was warned not to leave Northbridge and assured she would be kept under constant surveillance to make sure she didn’t, but on her attorney’s insistence, she was released from even informal house arrest and told she was free to leave her apartment.

      “We’ll be in touch” she was told as they all stood to go, giving the parting an ominous ring.

      Mara appreciated that Cam made sure he was the last to follow, spending a moment alone with Celeste, Mara and Jared to tell Celeste that she’d done well, that he hoped the Reverend would cooperate when he returned from his conference and retreat, and that everything would finally be put behind her.

      No sooner had Cam left, too, than the telephone rang. It was the call Celeste was expecting from Stephanie to discuss what had gone on. Celeste took the phone to her bedroom, leaving Mara and Jared alone.

      “How are you doing?” he asked, sounding as if he genuinely cared.

      “I’m glad it’s over,” Mara confessed.

      “Me, too. What’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?”

      “Who’s thought about anything beyond this?” Mara joked.

      “Okay, then,” he said, clearly taking control. “Break out that bad brandy and have a shot while I do some shopping. Then I’ll fix you both a dinner fit for kings.”

      “You cook?”

      He wiggled his eyebrows mysteriously. “Wait and see.”

      Jared actually could cook. Very well, Mara discovered. He prepared an old-fashioned meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn bread and salad. It was not fast food, however, and by the time he, Mara and Celeste had eaten, it was nearly ten o’clock.

      Celeste was obviously worn out so Mara encouraged the older woman