The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend (44 page)

She should interrupt William now. But it was his sermon and it was all going so well for him, and he looked so happy. She couldn't do it. He didn't even seem to notice when Caroline snuck in and sat down at the very back, or that Josh froze when he saw her. William was talking so confidently that he even managed to ignore Grace stumbling into the church, not particularly quietly – completely drunk, in fact – with a hunting rifle under her arm, presumably to celebrate in style afterwards. Sara turned her attention back to the minister. He seemed to have come to the end now.

He fell silent and glanced around expectantly, and for a moment, Broken Wheel managed to tear itself away and break out into spontaneous applause. William smiled and turned to Tom and Sara.

She really should say it now. But she didn't quite know whether her voice would manage it. There was an awful dry taste in her mouth. Her cheeks were burning so much they almost hurt. She felt like crying but her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she didn't think she could.

My God, I can't speak in front of people
, she thought.

For a moment, she forgot that she knew everyone there, that they were her friends, and all she could think of was how terrible she had always been at giving presentations in school.

Happily, she was saved by a discreet cough from the very back of the church.

Everyone turned around, looking in surprise at the little man who had crept silently in and was now clearing his throat to get their attention. ‘I'm looking for Sara Lindqvist and Tom Harris.'

Tom took a half-step forward.

‘You have, as I understand it, submitted an application for permanent residency on the grounds of the marriage I'm about to witness?'

‘Yes.'

‘Have you already married?'

Tom smiled ironically. ‘We were kind of in the middle of it when you arrived.'

‘Aha. I've got a little objection, you see.'

William stared at him. ‘But I haven't got to that bit yet!'

‘I'm afraid it can't wait,' the man said.

Everyone had begun whispering quietly at this unexpected development, aside from Grace, who had long ago lost the ability to talk quietly. ‘Who the hell is he to have objections?' she demanded of Claire, who smiled feebly at her and shook her head.

‘I'd recommend you reconsider this whole thing.'

‘But why?' said William.

‘Even if they get married, it's far from certain that we'll grant residency. As things stand, I must say it's doubtful that we'll do so.'

‘He's going to take our Sara from us!' Grace said angrily.

Claire hushed her and patted her arm, as though she were an agitated horse or, in this case, a drunk horse armed with a hunting rifle.

‘But how are they meant to be able to live together then?' William asked.

‘I've got to say that from my point of view, this looks most like an attempt to gain a residency permit under false pretences, which is, I have to tell you, a crime.'

‘But that's not at all why they're getting married,' William protested.

People were fidgeting in their seats. Sara smiled faintly.

‘Even without the bookstore and the question marks around
that
, I'd probably be forced to recommend a rejection.'

Grace stood up. ‘We Graces have never let any damn regulations decide what we can or can't do,' she said. Somewhat unsteadily, she aimed the rifle at Gavin Jones, who still seemed completely unfazed. ‘Towanda!'

‘Grace!' Claire said pleadingly as Andy, somewhat less helpfully, reminded her that the safety catch was still on. She lowered the weapon and looked hesitantly at them. Claire and George breathed a sigh of relief. Andy laughed.

Gavin Jones took the opportunity to call the police.

GAVIN JONES GLANCED
up from his notes. The policeman had gracefully agreed to accompany him to USCIS office in Hope. He'd also agreed to let Gavin do this his way, and deal with the gun as they went along.

Since the window was mirrored on one side, the people sitting in the waiting room couldn't see him. He had no idea why whoever built the room had opted for such extravagances but, at that moment, it meant he had plenty of time to observe them. The case should have been a simple one, but the sheer volume of potential madmen filled his orderly mind with dread. He already had a strong suspicion that when it came to Broken Wheel, nothing was ever simple.

Sara Lindqvist and Tom Harris were sitting slightly away from the others, squeezed into a corner, silent and dogged. The woman was thin and plain and wearing a dull white dress. She hadn't made the effort to look good. In his experience, women who were getting married spent a fortune on lace and frills and devoted hours to their hair and make-up. Sara Lindqvist hadn't even bothered to apply lipstick.

The man, on the other hand, was suspiciously handsome. If Gavin had been harbouring any doubts before he went to the church, they had vanished completely now.

He could think of only one reason a man like Tom Harris would want to marry a woman like Sara.

Money had changed hands, he thought resolutely.

‘What should we start with?' the policeman beside him asked. ‘The weapon? The minister? The wedding dress?' He seemed to think it was funny.

Gavin looked out through the window one last time.

Sara Lindqvist. Swedish citizen and suspected criminal.

Had it been worth it? he wondered to himself.

They got the least interesting of them over and done with first. Two men – a couple, the policeman noted merrily and Gavin disinterestedly – came in to be interviewed together. At the last moment, a woman who looked like some sort of manic housewife made her way into the interviewing room with them, demanding to be heard first.

‘Please explain to me what's going on here,' she said, sounding like a mother asking a child to explain a broken vase.

Gavin gestured for her to sit down, and she reluctantly did so, clutching her small bag and staring at him like he was the naughty child. ‘I demand to know what's going on,' she said. ‘This is a free country!'

‘Within reason,' the policeman said.

Gavin turned to the couple. ‘Tell me about this wedding.'

‘Sara and Tom,' one of them said. His eyes were shining. ‘A perfect couple. We knew that long before they even realised it themselves.'

‘And organised it for them?' Gavin's voice was dry.

‘Sure,' the same man said. He didn't seem the least bit remorseful. ‘Who knows what they would've come up with otherwise.'

‘And the bookstore?'

‘Which bookstore?'

‘How many are there in Broken Wheel?' It was the policeman who had spoken, and Gavin looked at him sternly.

‘What about it, I meant.'

‘Sara runs it?'

The man paused for thought. ‘Well, she's there sometimes. But she doesn't get paid, if that's what you were thinking, and she doesn't own it. Strictly speaking, I guess the town council does.' He laughed. ‘Or Amy Harris.'

Gavin noted down the name.

‘I don't see what all of this has got to do with Sara's wedding!' the woman complained. No one paid any attention to her.

‘And the weapon?' the policeman asked. Gavin sent another displeased look in his direction.

‘A misunderstanding.' The man smiled.

Gavin didn't bother putting any more questions to the two men. He could have sworn that one of them had winked at him.

‘Don't think I'll forget about this,' the housewife said over her shoulder as the policeman escorted her out rather forcibly. ‘Because I won't!'

Gavin had higher hopes for the next interview. The woman from the diner, the one with the hunting rifle.

‘A good woman, Sara,' the woman said.

Gavin Jones looked down at the form in front of him. Grace. No surname had been given.

‘Tom and Sara found one another straight away when she got to Broken Wheel,' she said. ‘They've been practically inseparable ever since.'

Gavin made no attempt to write down what she said.

‘And the weapon?' the policeman asked. Gavin glared at him.

‘The weapon?' said Grace. ‘A misunderstanding, that's all. A way of celebrating. Like the Fourth of July.'

‘Mm-hmm,' the policeman said, smiling. Gavin wasn't amused.

‘In my family, we take celebrations seriously,' Grace said. ‘It reminds me of the time my grandmother's mother –'

‘Thank you,' Gavin said quickly. ‘If we could talk about Tom and Sara?'

‘Damn predictable, that's what Tom and Sara were,' she said. ‘Certain couples just have it too easy. Not like us, who've had to fight for it.'

‘You?'

Gavin didn't even bother to glare at the policeman this time.

‘Believe me, the Grace women have had to fight. Men just have no sense of anything romantic. Insist on wanting to get married and
have
you, rather than just hanging out with a bit of moonshine and some semi-automatic weapons. Or revolvers. Knives. We're interested in most things. Even a frying pan once, before we switched to the hunting rifle. Say what you want about knives and frying pans, but they're not much use against a revolver at twenty yards. Though nowadays,' she added as an afterthought, ‘I've got a Marlin 336.'

‘Thanks very much,' Gavin blurted out. ‘Leave your contact details. You can go home for now.'

The policeman raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Caroline was sitting alone at the edge of the waiting room, trying not to look at Josh.

The only other people left were the minister, Sara and Tom, and none of them seemed interested in what she was doing. The minister looked confused and unhappy; Sara and Tom were simply sitting in calm silence next to one another. They said nothing, which was probably just as well. What could they say? What could any of them say now?

When the policeman came to get her, Caroline glanced instinctively towards Josh. He moved away from the wall and came over to her. They had to go through a door and down a short corridor parallel to the waiting room; he let her go first and the scent of his aftershave put a knot in her stomach as she passed.

She paused despite herself and he gently placed a hand on her back and took hold of her arm.

‘I've changed my mind,' he said, almost imperceptibly, as he guided her on.

He had already told her that he no longer wanted to be with her. That he was planning on going to Denver or wherever else he might end up. It had made her sad, it really had, especially since she had just decided that people might as well laugh at her. But she wasn't surprised.

What she couldn't understand was why he had insisted on following her into the interview room to explain it all again. Maybe she had annoyed him so much with her brief refusal that he simply wanted to emphasise how much he had changed his mind.

She smiled to herself. It wasn't completely impossible, she thought, and she liked him all the more for it. Why should he simply lie down and let her get away?

If she had been as tough when it came to relationships as she was with other things, she wouldn't have let him get away either.

The policeman opened the door to the office. The little grey man from the wedding was sitting at the desk. The policeman positioned himself slightly behind him and gazed nonchalantly out of the window rather than looking at them.

Impolite, Caroline thought without feeling.

Josh didn't seem to care in the slightest where he was or what was going on around him. He sat down in one of the chairs, but only because she had done the same, and immediately turned towards her. He was about to say something when the bureaucrat in the ill-fitting suit took control. She was so thankful that she smiled at him.

‘Tell us about this … wedding,' he said. The suspicion in his voice was just strong enough to encourage them to tell the truth, without being so overt as to put them on the defensive.

‘What do you want to know?' Caroline asked. ‘They met when Sara came here to visit Amy.'

The bureaucrat looked down at his papers. ‘Would that be a certain Amy Harris?'

‘She's dead,' Caroline said calmly, which made the policeman turn from the window and look at her out of curiosity.

‘What a town,' he said admiringly. The bureaucrat frowned at him.

‘Well, it wasn't unexpected. Impractical, I guess you could say.'

‘Very,' the policeman agreed.

‘She still stayed in the house, though. It was what Amy would've wanted.'

‘And worked in her bookstore?'

‘Helped out.'

‘And this marriage, would that also have been what Amy wanted?'

‘I think she probably would've liked it, but since they hadn't even met when she died, she probably had no opinion on it whatsoever.'

‘But the bookstore, she wanted Sara to have it?'

‘The store isn't Sara's. The books were Amy's, for the most part. I guess you can say that we, the town council – a group of people who help the town, you see, completely informal nowadays – own it.'

‘Not much of a town,' the policeman said.

Caroline didn't make the mistake of turning towards him. Josh was there somewhere, between her and the policeman, and so she kept her eyes fixed on the bureaucrat, to avoid having to look at Josh. He said nothing, but Caroline thought she could sense how tense he was. Maybe she was just imagining it, but she had no intention of looking at him to make sure.

‘Was Sara working in it?'

‘She definitely didn't get paid, if that's what you're wondering. She sat there reading sometimes, and she borrowed books from it. I don't think anyone really works there. We all helped out. There were never many customers, anyway. But it's a nice little store, in every sense.'

The bureaucrat made no comment, nor did he note anything down, despite the paper and pen lying on the desk in front of him. Caroline wasn't at all shaken by his nonchalance.