“Oh, I forgot to give this to you or Vikki earlier!” Donna said, holding up an envelope. “Got the mail for Vikki earlier, so she could come here and get the table set up.” She handed it to Josie, who slit it open with the table knife she’d been using as a card opener. There was a single-folded piece of paper in it, instead of a greeting card. She drew it from the envelope and flipped it open. Cutout letters were glued to the inside. They spelled out a warning Josie did not want to share with the others.
DON’T COME TO NEW YORK FOR YOUR SHOWER OR YOU’LL BE SORRY.
Josie gasped slightly, trying not to alarm anyone. Why would anyone send such a threatening note to her at her bridal shower? She stuffed the piece of paper back into the envelope and flipped the envelope over several times to see if she could find a return address or any other markings that would indicate its origin. The only thing she noted was the date stamp read New York, NY. Her fingers trembled as she tried to slide the envelope into her jacket pocket without anyone noticing.
“Who’s it from?” Vikki whispered. “Why are you trying to hide it?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Josie whispered back, smiling at no one in particular. Then, she stood to get everyone’s attention. They stopped visiting among themselves. “I want to thank you all for coming to my bridal shower today, and for the – huh hmmm – extremely interesting presents. I’m sure P.J. will have fun watching me model them on our honeymoon. I’m also certain that most of you have to get back to work since you came here on your lunch break. I hope you had fun; I did. Please come help us celebrate our marriage at our wedding dance on the first Saturday night in April. It will be at the Lakewood Community Center. Thanks, again!” As she sat down, she grabbed Vikki by the wrist and said, “Please stay, I have some communication we can catch up on right here.”
“Okay! Just let me go pay our bill, and I’ll be right back!” Vikki picked up discarded gift-wrap and took it with her to dispose of, her bleach blond locks flowing in the breeze she created. Some of the guests came over and gave Josie a hug on their way out. Each one had a nice compliment to pay her as they wished her well. Vikki returned as the last person walked out the door. Josie took the menacing mail out of her pocket and opened it again. It still said nothing more than it did the first time she read it. She laid the paper in Vikki’s outstretched hand.
Vikki read it silently and looked back at Josie, “What in the world . . .? Who even knows you’re going to have shower in New York?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to disappoint the twins or my future mother-in-law. So, I guess I’ll be finding out ‘who’.” Josie said.
When Josie talked to P.J. on the phone that night, she tried to stay bubbly by talking about the bridal shower and all the naughty little gifts the guests had given her. Yet, there was something nervous about her laughter, and P.J. sensed something was haunting her.
“I can’t wait to see you in each and every one of those items,” P.J. said, “but, honey, I can tell something’s bothering you. Come on, tell ol’ P.J. about it.”
“Not over the phone,” Josie stated flatly. “Why don’t you come over Thursday evening, and we’ll talk over a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Okay, if I must wait until then, I must. Won’t you give me just a little hint? I haven’t done anything to upset you, have I? I’ll just kick myself if I have.”
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Josie said. “Just give me a call when you get within two minutes of the house. I’ll meet you outside. I don’t want Grams to hear. It’s a . . . surprise. So, I want to keep it a secret, okay? And, that’s why we can’t talk about it over the phone; I don’t want her to overhear. I’d better go now. Love you.”
"I’ll be your bodyguard the entire weekend.." FBI Agent Andy Hoverstein said. "The only thing that bugs me is that I’ll be out of place at the shower unless it’s for guys too.”
“No, it’s not. And that’s why I came up with the Spiced Apple Plan,” Josie said.
“Just hold on a minute. ‘Spiced Apple’? That sounds a little risqué,” Andy said, leaning in to whisper.
“Only the name is spicy,” Josie said. “I thought of calling it ‘Blond Hotty’ because of something my receptionist said, but thought that was a little too much.”
“You’re darned tootin’ it’s too much,” Andy shook his head, his blond bangs tossed back and forth. Josie brushed her own chestnut bangs from her eyes and then reached for her notebook from beside her on the bench seat. She had dropped it there along with her purse when she first sat down. She opened it and slid it across the table toward Andy. He must have seen the server coming with their meal as he flipped the notebook upside down to prevent her from seeing its contents.