"Of course," Jake shouted, jerking his head in Mother's direction. "She was!" There were murmurs of astonishment from the crowd, Jake seemed to be enjoying himself now. It was nice that someone was. The crowd was hanging on his every word, and in case they missed anything the first time around, Aunt Esme was repeating everything he said at the top of her voice into Great-Aunt Matilda's good ear. I hoped the sheriff and his deputies weren't getting so interested that they'd forget to rescue me if the opportunity came up.
"Well, I never!" Mother said, in her chilliest manner. "I can't imagine what would ever have given you that idea."
"She kept at me," Jake continued. "She kept telling me that she knew exactly what I had done, and it was all for the best. She even told me she knew all about the rice pudding." Everyone looked at Mother.
"Well, I did," Mother said, perplexed. "I knew how much Emma liked it, and you were so good to learn how to make it for her. So few men would go to that much bother. I don't see what rice pudding has to do with it, anyway."
"That was what I fed her the poison in," Jake shouted. Please, Mother, I thought; don't get him any more excited. "I thought you knew that! And I almost had a heart attack when I found out you expected me to marry you to keep you quiet!"
"I can't imagine what could possibly have given you that idea," Mother said stiffly.
"You kept going on about married couples keeping each other's little secrets."
"I'm sure you were asking something highly personal about Dr. Langslow."
"I was asking if he knew what you knew."
"Knew what?" Mother asked.
"About Emma!" Jake shouted.
"You needn't shout, Jake," Mother reproved. "If he did, he certainly didn't tell me, or I would never have accepted your proposal."
"Are you suggesting," Pam asked, "that although Mother knew you had killed your first wife, she was so eager to marry you that she was willing to blackmail you into doing it?" Put like that, it seemed so implausible that even Jake was taken aback.
"Well," he waffled, "it seemed so at the time."
"And then Mrs. Grover tried to blackmail you, and you killed her," Dad picked up the tale. "But you realized that you'd never feel safe as long as I was around asking difficult questions about Mrs. Grover's death. So you decided to shut me up by getting rid of me. And Meg, once you decided she was a threat."
"No you don't," Jake said, suddenly, dragging me with him as he whirled about to look behind him. Some of the deputies had edged their way around there. I assume they were trying to surprise him.
"Get out of my way," Jake snarled, and dragged me with him until he had his back to the garage. "Someone bring my car around. We're leaving."
Great. From maid of honor to hostage. I suddenly realized that I was still holding my bouquet in the hand that wasn't clutching at the arm that was choking me.
"Jake, you don't have to do this," Mother said in her most soothing tones, and started to walk toward us as she talked. "I'm sure Dr. Langslow knows a psychiatrist who could help get you off. Why don't you just turn Meg loose and we'll sit down and talk to him--"
"You stay away from me," Jake wailed. "Stand back or I'll shoot her! I swear I will!"
Everybody stood back. Stalemate. What did Jake have in mind--fleeing the country with me as his hostage?
Suddenly we heard the usual unearthly peacock shrieks coming from directly overhead. Two peacocks were fluttering down from the roof toward us. Jake dodged to one side to avoid them, dragging me with him, and I could feel that the barrel of the gun was no longer pointed at my back. The peacocks were followed almost immediately by Michael, who landed with a thud where Jake would have been if he hadn't dodged. But the diversionary tactic worked--Jake loosened his grip on me and started to point the gun at Michael.
Here was my chance! I jerked Jake's arm skyward, the gun started firing, guests began screaming and dropping to the ground.
Luckily my ironwork had given me a great deal more upper body strength than most women have. A lot more than Jake, too. I could keep the gun pointed harmlessly in the air until it was empty. Then I shoved Jake away from me and watched as he was tackled, first by Mother, then by Michael, and then, belatedly, by the sheriff and most of the deputies and ersatz cousins. The lawmen began fighting over who got to handcuff him, their efforts hampered by Mother, who had one knee on Jake's neck and was beating him over the head with her wedding bouquet.
"Of all the nasty, mean things!" Mother said, punctuating her remarks with blows. "I hope they put you under the jail!"