There Goes the Groom
Date: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: cookie429; Extratorrents; Kat; Romance
Description: PRAISE FOR RITA HERRON'S books: MARRY ME, MADDIE Get set for an entertaining read with a lively set of characters! Scribes World Reviews Rita Herron's style sparkles in MARRY ME, MADDIE. Without a doubt Rita Herron's rising star boldly shines in this book. Amazon.com SLEEPLESS IN SAVANNAH A fun and fast moving story. Romantic Times, Reviewer; Susan Mobley OVERVIEW: A jilted bride is arrested at her wedding when her fiancé dumps her and goes on the lamb! MORE PRAISE: IN A HEARTBEAT is an awesome and edgy suspense thriller that will keep you on the rim of your seat guessing who the culprit is an
Publisher: Beachside Reads

THERE GOES

THE

GROOM

RITA HERRON

Copyright Information

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2012 Rita Herron

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Table of Contents

There Goes the Groom

Copyright Information

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Other Books by Rita Herron

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

Marci Turner had always been a screw-up.

But not anymore.

Not after today.

Today she was marrying Paul Pendergrass of the Pendergrass family of Charleston, South Carolina, and she was going to become a respectable woman.

No more bar hopping.

Waitressing.

Or mini-skirts.

Well…maybe she’d keep a mini-skirt or two in her closet. After all, a girl had to show off her assets to keep her husband happy. And she did have good legs, even if she did say so herself.

Something her sweet but boring sister Kim neglected to accentuate.

Not that it had kept Kim from finding true love. Except truth be known, she might never have found her hunky husband if she hadn’t convinced Kim to pull a twin switch one weekend and pretend to be engaged to Austin McDane.

Marci fluffed the tendrils of wild red hair falling around her cheeks with a grin, then applied the ruby red lipstick that matched the red roses in her bouquet -- and the see-through teddy she had packed for her honeymoon.  Not that she would need lingerie but it was always fun to take it off…

Kim might poo-poo her stark red lips, but her fiancé hadn’t complained when she’d planted those red lips on his mouth.

Or around his …length.

For a second she wondered if Kimmie and her husband had wild monkey sex, but then again, her sister had never been very daring.

Still, Kimmie had a great husband.

Even though he could be a little too focused on business.

Although they obviously had found their way around the bedroom since Kim was eight months pregnant.

Austin’s devotion to Kim had sparked her own desire to have a man look at her with those gooey eyes and fall at her feet and promise to love her for all eternity.

Tears blurred her vision. Good gracious, she had never been the sappy twin. That was Kimberly.

She was the spontaneous, fun-loving one.

But Kimberly’s nuptials had done something to her. Made her take a long look at her days of one-night flings and waking up next to a guy who had looked hot as all-get-out the night before, but who looked like a two-bagger in the morning.

And Paul Pendergrass was easy on the eyes.

He had totally swept her off her feet with his lavish gifts and attention.

Even better, he was the first male she’d ever met who understood a girl’s need for retail therapy.

Definitely her soul mate.

Kim poked her head into the bridal dressing room at the country club, her elegant black dress molding to her pregnant figure. “How’s it going, sis?”

Marci nodded. “Can you help me with those pearl buttons in the back?”

“Sure.” Kim stepped up behind her and began the laborious task of fastening all twenty-five of the little jeweled buttons that started midway down her back and went to her butt.  “You look beautiful, Marci.”

“I bet you were surprised I picked this dress,” Marci said. Hell, she’d been surprised at herself. She had first wanted the short mid-thigh sundress with the bold fuchsia sash, but had decided if she was going to be respectable, she should start on her wedding day with a respectable dress.

After all Paul had insisted on a country club wedding with champagne and a sit-down dinner and dancing instead of the barefoot ceremony on the beach she had suggested. He wanted the best for his baby, he’d told her.

How could she to argue with that?

Kim finally finished with the buttons, then spun her around for a wardrobe inspection. “You look perfect, Marci.” Kim’s voice cracked with emotion. “Are you sure he’s the one?”

Marci frowned. “Of course I am.” Wasn’t she?

Suddenly she started to itch, and she cursed a blue streak. “Dammit, Kim, now you got me rattled I’m going to break out in hives.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Kim squeezed her hands.

A seed of worry sprouted in Marci’s stomach. “Don’t you like Paul?”

Kim shifted on the toes of her heels. “I …uh… just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“Paul is a wonderful man,” Marci said. “I realize you don’t know him very well, but you didn’t know Austin that well when you fell in love. And you should see Paul at the restaurant. He’s so sweet to all the little blue-haired ladies that come in. They just adore him. And when I finish my cosmetology classes, they’re all going to be my customers.”

Voices echoed outside the room, the guests arriving, the harpist starting to play.  Marci’s heart tripped into double-time.

“Of course, you’re right.” Kim poked her head through the door, then turned back to her and adjusted her veil. “It’s almost time.”

Marci licked her suddenly dry lips.  “Did Mom show, Kim?”

Kim’s gaze met hers, a tense heartbeat passing between them. Their parents had divorced when they were little, and they hadn’t seen their father since. Their bohemian mother had remarried a couple of times but none of the marriages took.

Apparently CeCe Turner wasn’t the settle down type.

Marci fidgeted. Was she really going to tie herself down to one man for the rest of her life? Or was she like her mother?

“I’m sorry, Marci,” Kim said softly. “Mom sent a text that she couldn’t make it.”Marci blinked back tears of disappointment. For some stupid reason, she’d imagined her mother and father showing up on her special day.

She’d always dreamed of walking down the aisle on her dad’s arm…

Stupid, childish dreams.

No tears, Marci. Your parents are not going to ruin your big day.

Nothing was.

She fluffed her veil.

Yes. Her wedding was going to be perfect -- it would be a day she’d remember the rest of her life.

*~*~*~*

Detective Cade Muller was going to nail Paul Pendergrass and his sweet little bride-to-be to the wall today.

And nothing was going to stop him.

No, sirree, the con man had escaped arrest before. Had assumed an alias more than once.  And he’d cheated hundreds of people in his various scams.

He wouldn’t get away this time. Cade had been hunting him for months and today was the big pay-off.

He smoothed his suit jacket over his service revolver and stepped inside the country club ballroom, scanning the room for trouble. For any signs that Pendergrass had been tipped off that he was onto him.

Yards and yards of that lacy tulle stuff draped chairs and white linen tables that had been erected on the opposite side of the room for the man’s wedding reception. An aisle decorated with rose petals led to an altar made of more roses and satin. Bows and ribbons dangled from the ceiling like strings of pearls, crystal vases filled with fresh flowers adorned the tables, and an ice statue in the shape of a swan welcomed guests. As if that wasn’t ornate enough, a chocolate fountain offered extra desserts in addition to the gigantic wedding cake, and the catering staff was working to set up the bar.

He gave the set-up a once-over. Hmm, the good stuff. Name brand scotch and bourbon, expensive wine and champagne.

In fact, everything looked lavish and pricey as if Pendergrass was expecting the social elite of Atlanta to attend.

By the door, tiny little bottles of  champagne-shaped bubbles filled a white basket for the bride and groom’s send-off.

A shame it would all go to waste because the only send-off was going to be in his squad car.

Did the guests know the drinks and food they would be consuming had been paid for with stolen money?

Their stolen money.

He glanced across the room at his partner, Georgia Strait. She tapped her earphone to make sure it was working. “Operation is on.”

He gave a clipped nod.

At first Georgia had protested arresting Pendergrass at his wedding, but Cade had assured her the timing would be perfect. With so many witnesses around, the man would hardly put up a fight. After all, he’d never been a violent man, and as far as Cade knew, didn’t carry a weapon.

Except for the charm he wielded on unsuspecting women when he weaseled them out of their life’s savings.

Another reason this country club wedding was the ideal place to expose Pendergrass. His victims needed to see what kind of underhanded man he really was.

No sense letting all that good booze and food go to waste either.

Once he had the man in handcuffs, the guests could commiserate their losses together while eating Pendergrass’s filet mignon and drinking his Dom Perignon.

Guests began to fill the seats, low murmurs and laughter echoing through the ballroom. Several rows of white-haired ladies tittered as they brushed past him, reminding him of his sweet little grandmother Nana Muller who’d raised him after his parents had kicked the bucket.

“Look, isn’t it beautiful?” one of the women whispered in awe.

“A Cinderella wedding for a romantic couple,” another lady commented.

Cade bit his tongue to keep from dampening their excitement with a sarcastic remark. He couldn’t tip his hand or one of the poor fools might warn Pendergrass and he’d run.

A side door at the front of the room opened, and three men entered. One he assumed was the reverend or whoever the couple had chosen to marry them – probably a con artist as well. The second man Cade recognized as Vinny Baretti, the man who’d played the real estate broker in the phony deals Pendergrass had been making and probably earned a hefty chunk for his service.

Then Pendergrass himself. Tall, thin, hair cut to precision, manicured hands. Polished.

All to disguise the slime beneath.

He wore his tux and smile like he belonged in this elite crowd.

Another façade.

Pendergrass had grown up on the streets, had lied and cheated his way into the world he wanted as his own, and fooled countless people along the way, stealing their fortunes to build his own private empire.

The crooked three-man team took their places, the piano music replaced the harp, and the guests shifted to watch the center aisle. A striking redhead in a black satin dress started down the aisle holding a bouquet of white roses.

Kimberly, Marci’s twin sister.

He’d done his homework. She ran a children’s center for needy kids and was married to a promising architect named Austin McDane. Judging from her rounded belly, she was obviously very pregnant pregnant.

At this point, he didn’t think she and her husband were involved in Pendergrass’s scheme, but the other twin – Marci—she was in it up to her pretty little eyeballs.

Kim smiled at her husband as she made it to the altar, but she turned to watch the door for her sister. Hmmm. She looked more worried than happy.

Questions ticked through his head. What did she think about her sister’s choice in husbands? Did she know about Pendergrass’s illegal activities?

The music shifted as  the bridal march began, and hushed whispers of excitement floated through the room as everyone stood for the bride’s entrance.

Cade glanced at Pendergrass and noted that he was beaming as if he was totally smitten with his fiancé. Hell, maybe he was.

Maybe they were soul mates. Criminals born of the same mind.

But they wouldn’t be celebrating their honeymoon in Tahiti like they thought or making love in the moonlight and running naked on the beach.

In fact, they wouldn’t be sharing a bed at all.

Not even a prison cot or a cell.

Satisfied Pendergrass didn’t plan on leaving his beloved intended at the altar, Cade turned his gaze toward Marci.

His breath caught in his chest as she stepped into the limelight. Criminal or not, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Her striking red hair tumbled around her beautiful heart-shaped face, her eyes glimmered with the kind of erotic playfulness that made a man fantasize about all the naughty things he wanted to do to her, and those ruby red lips were enough to make a man sink to his knees from wanting her.

She was wasting her talents on the little blue-haired ladies.

Pendergrass had that covered. If they were smart, Marci would be seducing men out of their money.

Then again, maybe Pendergrass was the jealous type.

Hell, if he had a knockout like Marci Turner, he wouldn’t want another man looking at her, much less touching her either.

Forcing his mind off of sex and the primal urges his suspect stirred, he focused on the case instead and reminded himself that no matter how sweet and innocent she appeared to be, or how outrageously sexy and wanton her voluptuous body was, she was a cheater and a liar.

She fiddled with her veil, slid her hand beneath it and scratched at her neck as if she had a sudden itch, then a panicked look crossed her face.

Was Marci Tuner having second thoughts? Was she about to bolt and leave her fiancé stranded at the altar?

A smile stretched his face. Seeing Pendergrass get jilted after all he’d done to deceive others would be sweet justice.

But Marci took a deep breath, then licked those amazing lips and started down the aisle. Normally she wore mini-skirts and form fitting low-cut tops at the restaurant, so the simple, almost conservative wedding dress surprised him.

Obviously Pendergrass had convinced her he was her ticket to society.

He patted his weapon beneath his jacket, anxious to put an end to that little fantasy.

As Marci approached Pendergrass, he gave her an adoring look and cradled her hand in his. Cade inched up the room on the opposite side from where Georgia stood, remaining in the shadows of the white curtains as if he were one of the serving staff.

Adrenaline pumped through him as the man in charge of the nuptials began the ceremony, and he waited for his cue to stop the wedding.

He couldn’t wait to see the looks on the couple’s faces when he exposed them as frauds, and they realized their little con game was over.

*~*~*~*

He stood at the back of the church eyeing the fancy smancy decorations, and all these people dressed to the hilt in their designer suits, tuxes and flowing gowns. Pendergrass had outdone himself this time.

But he had crossed the line.

His hand slid to the inside pocket of his own tux jacket and he smiled. One clean shot was all it would take.

Pendergrass deserved it.

And his bride?

Hmm…he had no idea if she was his latest eye candy or if she had been part of his scheme.

Not that he cared.

CHAPTER TWO

Marci’s legs were pinging like rubber bands making her feel drunk already. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she felt the telltale signs of the rash exploding on her chest.

Heck, maybe she was allergic to the roses.

Yes, that was it. She had never been around so many flowers in her life. The overpowering smell was giving her a headache, and the petals must be causing a physical reaction.

She was not nervous about marrying Paul. Paul was perfect.

He squeezed her hands in his, and her heart sputtered. They had planned a wonderful life together. Paul had made a mint off the resort properties he’d been selling and had already bought them a mansion in Buckhead complete with a pool and outdoor kitchen. Not that she would actually cook out there during the muggy mosquito-laden summer nights, but he insisted they’d need it for entertaining. Or heck, maybe Buckhead didn’t have mosquitos like the burbs.

Of course, Paul had other properties all over the world so they would be traveling a lot. She’d always wanted to see other cities like Venice and Paris and London.

The shopping would be amazing.

Then she glanced at Kim and saw the tiny frown line knitted between her eyes and realized that Kim had lied.

She did have reservations about Paul.

Holy moly. Her sister might be practical and boring, but she always seemed to sense when Marci was in trouble.

Was she in trouble now?

Her mother’s outlook on marriage echoed in her head. Marriage is not for girls like us, Marci.

Girls like us? Fun-loving, carefree, lively spirits with whimsical tastes and a love for sex and passion.

Sex and passion died once the honeymoon was over.

Another bit of her mother’s sage advice.

Panic made her pulse jump, but Paul pulled her closer, and she glanced up and saw his eyes roving over her with such love that her fears faded like raindrops on hot pavement.

Today was her day, and she refused to let her mother’s nagging voice or Kim’s fretting or her own traitorous insecurities ruin her Cinderella wedding.

Pastor Joe, one of Paul’s college buddies who’d gotten his license over the Internet, cleared his throat.  “Today is a glorious day. Paul Pendergrass and Marci Turner have come together to recite their nuptials.”

His tanned face glowed an orange shade in the candlelight service, and Marci almost broke into giggles. She laughed when she was nervous.

Not good during a funeral but during a wedding was tolerable.

Still, Paul frowned at her.

Get a grip, Marci. This is a high-class wedding. Why, the wedding coordinator at the country club had even pulled strings to have a society columnist here to showcase their event!

Although for some reason that escaped her, Paul hadn’t been very happy about that, and so far had avoided the woman.

Her heart melted again. He was so kind but so modest.  He must not like all the attention.

“And now it’s time for the recital of the couple’s vows.” Pastor Joe smiled and glanced across the room at the lace-draped seats filled with their friends. “But first as tradition holds, I must ask. Is there anyone here who has just reason to oppose this wedding? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

For a moment, Marci tensed, terrified all the exotic, rich, more educated worldly women from Paul’s past would fly out of the woodwork like bees and scream that they had to stop the wedding. But not a single gorgeous blond, sexy brunette or fiery redhead shot up from their seats.

Although the crowd shifted restlessly. And a dark-haired man emerged from the white curtains to the side. He had the body of a linebacker and eyes so dark they looked black. He was also stalking toward them like some kind of predator.

Her heart sputtered. What in the world was he doing? He almost looked as if he was going to protest.

Impossible. No…he had to be part of the wait staff. But if there was a problem with the reception, couldn’t he wait until they said their I Dos?

Pastor Joe shifted nervously, then jerked his head toward the man, his right eye twitching.

Paul gripped her fingers so tightly she thought she heard one of the bones crack. And she could have sworn panic flared in his eyes.

“Let’s move on then,” Pastor Joe said hurriedly.

“No.” The big hulking guy threw up a hand.   “I can’t hold my peace.”

Marci gasped. What in heaven’s name?

“Paul?” she squeaked.

“Paul Pendergrass and Marci Turner.” The man flashed a badge. “My name is Detective Cade Muller. You are under arrest for one hundred and ten counts of fraud.”

Marci gaped at him in shock, then turned to Paul just as the detective yanked a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“This is a mistake,” she whispered. Surely her fiancé would clear this up in seconds. “Tell them, Paul.”

But Paul was so pale he looked like he might faint. A second later, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek, then mouthed the words, “Dammit, Marci, I told you not to run that picture in the paper!”

With a jerk of his hand, he released her and took off running.

*~*~*~*

The son of a bitch was running.

And leaving his bride behind.

Coward.

Marci hiked up her dress and started chasing after him.  “Paul, come back here!”

“There goes the groom!” someone shouted.

The crowd erupted into shouts and pandemonium. Cade vaulted in action, chasing after Marci who was chasing Pendergrass.

The damn man wove through the crowd of blue-hairs who must have thought their prince charming was innocent, because they parted like the Red Sea creating a path for his escape, then seemed to gather and move in herds to block his way.

“He is not a fraud!” several women shouted.

“How dare you ruin this wedding!” a haughty voice yelled.

“Marci, wait!” Kim toddled after Marci, her husband Austin shouldering his way through the milieu to help out.

Pastor Joe and the best man disappeared behind a back curtain. Georgia was closer so she dashed after them.

Suddenly a gunshot exploded.

Screams filled the air as the guests ducked and began to run, scattering like ants at a picnic.

Cade pulled his own weapon, pivoting to see where the gunshot had come from. The left maybe? Behind the curtain?

Another shot rang out, and Marci screamed as it sailed by her head. The groom jogged toward the door, stooping down to dodge the bullets.

Guests knocked over chairs and banged tables in their haste to escape, ripping lace bows and tripping over each other. Cameras flashed, a little lady in a pink dress fainted, creating another scene as shouts for a doctor echoed through the room.

Marci’s dress caught on the heel of her shoe, and she ripped them off and flung them to the side. They hit a table of booze, and scotch and bourbon bottles crashed to the marble floor, the rich brown liquid flowing like a brown river.

Pendergrass slammed into the table holding the wedding cake, and the three-tiered wedding cake toppled over. Kim slipped in the frosting, but her husband managed to catch her just in time before she hit the floor.

Cade didn’t know whether to go after the damn shooter or Pendergrass. He tapped his mike, hoping Georgia heard.  “We need back up in here. Shots fired!”

Marci raced past the vases of flowers in the foyer of the country club to the entryway, and he followed, close on her heels. A black limousine sat in front of the club awaiting the happy couple to carry them to their honeymoon night, but Pendergrass jumped into it like it was a getaway car.

Cade saw the driver and realized it was Vinny. Pastor Joe was in the front seat. The car accelerated, and the vehicle raced off.

A few feet down, a Camaro roared to life and followed.  The shooter?

Where the hell was Georgia?

A moan erupted from the columns to the right, and he spotted her lying on the ground by a row of azaleas and hurried to her.  “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Georgia said. “I’ll put an APB on the limo and that Camaro. Go get the bride!”

Guests spilled out of the building, flooding the steps and pristine lawn, cameras flashing.

“Paul, don’t leave me!” Marci wailed as she ran after the limo.

The limo was going so fast Marci couldn’t catch them, so she darted to the right toward a beat-up VW.

Dammit, she wasn’t going to get away, too.

Cade dashed down the steps two at a time, sped up and caught her just as she grabbed the door handle.

“Marci Turner,” he said as he gripped her arm.

Marci tried to jerk away. “Stop it, you’re hurting me.”

He eased his hold on her but didn’t release her. Instead he whipped out his handcuffs, spun her around and forced her to face him. “Then stop fighting me, or I’ll add resisting arrest to the charges against you.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes, glittering like diamonds on her eyelashes.

He gritted his teeth. Holy hell. He felt like he was kicking a frail kitten.

Then he reminded himself of the charges against her, of all the footage he’d watched of her and Pendergrass sweet talking little old women out of their savings, and he hardened himself.

For God’s sake, his own grandmother had fallen for their stunt.

Marci Turner was no kitten.

She was a dangerous tiger in disguise.

“Please, I need to go after him,” Marci whispered. “You’ve made a terrible mistake. Paul will clear this all up.”

“Save it for your lawyer.” He spun her around, shoved her hands behind her back and fastened the handcuffs.  She might be sexy and a good actress, but he would not fall for her charms.

A little voice inside his head whispered -- she’s innocent until proven guilty.

But he closed his mind to the thought. How many perps had he arrested that were actually innocent?

None.

Besides, she was marrying Pendergrass. That made her guilty in his book.

There was no way she’d gotten that close to the crook and not known what he was up to.

*~*~*~*

Marci nearly choked on a sob as the detective snapped the handcuffs around her wrists. Dad blast it! How had this happened?

This was supposed to be her Cinderella wedding, and now it had turned into a fiasco.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be held against you…”

The big bull of a cop’s words faded as Marci saw the society columnist snapping photos. The lawn of the country club was a mass of well-dressed shocked guests who, on close scrutiny, had torn lace, satin bows and cake on their shoes.

And judging from their mutinous looks, they were either going to defend her or tar and feather her.

But her heart was hurting too much to worry about them right now. This man had not only ruined her wedding with these ridiculous claims, but Paul had run off and left her!

She sucked back a sob, grateful she’d been smart enough to wear-waterproof mascara. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.  “Why?”

The detective’s steely gaze met hers. “Because you and your fiancé ripped off half of the people here with your phony resort scam.”

“What?” Marci’s head reeled. More lights flashed, that woman she’d seen chasing Pastor Joe appeared, and Kim was fighting her way through the crowd toward her.

“Let me through. That’s my sister up there!”

This could not be happening. Kim had always harped that she had to clean up Marci’s messes, and now this?

As if things weren’t bad enough, thunder suddenly rumbled, the spring sky turning a dark gray.

Something must have rattled the guests even more because they came at her in droves. “What’s going on, Marci?”

“What’s this about fraud?” an elderly man asked.

“Are you saying that resort property was a scam?” someone else shouted.

That comment brought a round of accusations and screaming, and a few women who started crying and sobbing.

“You mean we’ve lost everything?”

“He stole our money?”

Another lady shook her finger at Marci. “We trusted you, but you robbed us?”

Marci shook her head in denial just as the first raindrops splattered the pavement. She had no idea what was going on. The detective had to be wrong. Paul wouldn’t cheat these kind people.

And he’d never lie to her.

Although a seed of doubt spread in her belly.

But he had left her to deal with this mess, left her at the altar. Ran like a coward…like he was guilty…

Two more police cars screeched up, officers jumping out and rushing toward them. Lightning streaked the tops of the oaks and several of the older women took cover.

“Search the inside ballroom for bullet casings,” Detective Muller said.  “And contain the guests. Question each and every one of them and take down their contact information. Somebody took a shot at Pendergrass. I want to know who it was.”

Marci shifted restlessly. Could the shooter have been one of their guests?

Detective Muller studied her like she was some mangy dog, then dragged her toward his car. She stubbed her toe on a crack in the cement, and tears stung her eyes as she realized her pedicure was completely ruined and her toe was bleeding.

Oblivious, the detective pushed her head down to force her into the car, and her tiara fell to the ground beside the car as he slammed the door shut.

Cameras flashed again, and Marci buried her head into her torn veil just as the clouds unleashed the rain. She should be taking wedding photographs now.

Instead in a few minutes, she would be posing for her mug shot.

CHAPTER THREE

Cade steeled himself against any sympathy for Marci Turner as the floodgates began to pour. She was nothing but a liar and a cheat.

A damn good liar and a pretty cheat, but she was still a criminal.

She had helped Pendergrass by introducing him to the women at the restaurant where she’d waitressed. And she’d flirted her way into the male target’s graces with those short skirts, endless legs and pouty red lips.

And that tattoo…dammit, he liked that tattoo.

But he would not fall under her charms like the other fools.

“I sent pictures of Pendergrass and his partners statewide,” Georgia said as she climbed in the front seat.

“Thanks.” Cade tried to tune out the sound of Marci’s sobs which mingled with the thunder as he sank into the driver’s side. Suddenly the woman’s sister flew toward the car and banged on the glass.

“Stop it, you can’t do this to my sister,” she shouted.

Cade gritted his teeth and cracked the window. “Move away from the window, Ma’am, or I’ll arrest you, too.”

Her eyes flared with indignation, but her husband tugged her away from the car as rain pummeled her.

In the rearview mirror, he saw Marci raise her tear-stained face from her veil and mouth I’m sorry to her sister.

Sorry for embarrassing her by being arrested, or for cheating innocent people?

He started the engine just as some of the guests raced inside to take cover from the storm. Good for them.

At least, they could mollify their worries with the free food and booze Pendergrass had paid for with their money.

*~*~*~*

Marci clenched her handcuffed hands together as the hateful detective sped away from the country club. Apparently he had a screen that divided the backseat from the front to protect him from dangerous criminals.

People like her.

Probably a good thing since right now she wanted to choke him.

She wanted to choke Paul, too.

How could he have left her at the mercy of this cop?

And who in hell’s bells had been shooting at her?

Hysterical laughter mingled with panic, and she released a hyena noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a cry.  As if to mock her, the thunder grew louder, the clouds unleashing a torrent.

She had had such dreams when she’d woken up this morning. Dreams of wearing her beautiful wedding gown, which was now tattered and stained. Of walking down the aisle with her father, which never happened. Of saying vows to the man she loved and having him sweep her off her feet into his arms for their first dance.

Then into the bedroom for some hot kinky sex.

Shoot, she had imagined herself in handcuffs, but not these hard metal things that were cutting into her wrists -- the furry red ones she’d packed for the honeymoon. And instead of a police car, she’d envisioned herself handcuffed to a plush bed while her adoring husband fed her chocolate-covered strawberries, drizzled champagne over her belly and licked it off.

Then she’d wake up and be Mrs. Pendergrass, the shame of her wild days behind her, and she’d start a new life, a respectable one, where Kim would be proud of her and she was somebody.

She caught an image of her disheveled appearance in the mirror and winced.

Oh, she was somebody all right. Real high society.

Tomorrow morning everyone in Atlanta would wake up to see her picture plastered across the television, newspapers and Internet.

Bride Arrested at Her Own Wedding.

And where was her groom?

He’d hightailed it out of there…

Probably flying to Tahiti to relax in that decadent honeymoon suite with the heart-shaped bed while she spent the night in the clinker.

*~*~*~*

By the time they reached the police station, the news had spread about the shooting and arrest at the country club. Cade cursed as the media assaulted them when he drove into the parking lot of the jail.

“Jesus,” Georgia said. “Must be a slow night.”

“How the hell did they find out so quickly?” Cade growled. He hated the press almost as much as he hated the crooks he put behind bars.

“Someone probably videoed it and put it on YouTube,” Georgia said.  “And the Twitter followers have probably sent it nationwide.”

Behind him, Marci groaned and buried her head in her hands. He almost felt sorry for her. She looked like a drowned rat.

And tonight was going to get worse.

But then his sweet Nana’s face flashed in his mind, her cheeks streaked with tears of grief when she realized her life savings had been flushed down the drain, and any sympathy fled.

“I’ll try to hold off the vultures while you haul her in.” Georgia smoothed down her navy jacket then climbed from the car and stepped toward the press. A series of black umbrellas filled the front steps as if they were waiting on a funeral procession.

He opened his door, daring the weasel with the microphone who darted toward him to approach.

The others descended on Georgia like rabid dogs, shouting questions.

“Was anyone injured in the country club shooting?” one of the reporters asked.

“You caught the Desert Sand con man?” another shouted.

He opened the back door to the squad car, grimacing at the way Marci was huddled inside that ridiculous dress. It looked like a big ball of cotton candy tangled around her.

“Come on,” he said. “You can’t hide out in there all night.”

She shoved the veil from her eyes and glared at him. “You don’t have to be so mean,” she said. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

Fury heated his blood, and he leaned in, so close that his head swirled from her sultry perfume.

Perfume or not, dammit, she was a crook. And one of the worst because she wore such an innocent shell to deceive people.

“No, but you and your little boyfriend cheated my grandmother, one of the kindest, most giving women on this Earth out of money she earned ironing clothes for other people. So get out of the car before I drag your ass out, throw you over my shoulder and haul you through the crowd.” He gestured toward the handful of reporters. “Or maybe you like all this attention, and you want that picture in the news, too.”

Anger filled the woman’s eyes, then she licked those pouty red lips and shoved one foot onto the cement. He tried not to stare at the blood red color on her toes and the diamond ankle bracelet she was wearing.

God Almighty, did she have to be so blasted sexy?

She was like sin rolled into one delicious little package of temptation.

But she tripped over the netting of her wedding gown as she tried to stand on the slick pavement, and he cursed. If he didn’t help her, he’d probably be accused of police brutality.

Silently willing himself to ignore those luscious breasts spilling over the top of the bodice of her dress, he took her arm and steadied her as she emerged from the car. The crinoline swished back and forth as they walked toward the steps, the rain drenching her wild curly hair.

The weasel that had eyed him when he parked was obviously lust-stricken and sidled up next to Marci. “Miss Turner, did you and your boyfriend set up that phony Desert Sand Resort and con all your friends at the country club?”

Marci jerked to a stop and batted her eyes at the man. “I would never hurt anyone by taking their money.”

Cade gripped her arm and shot the weasel a scathing look. “Move so I can escort Miss Turner inside.”

Georgia raced over and interceded. “We will issue a statement as soon as we finish the investigation.”

Suddenly another car screeched up, and his nana jumped out and tottered toward them. Cade shook his head in warning at her, but she flew at them, then began beating Marci with her handbag. “How could you marry a man who steals from seniors?” she screeched.  “Shame on you. We’re on fixed incomes!”

“Nana,” Cade said as he gently pulled her away. “Stop it!”

Marci stumbled backward, her veil sliding to one side as she tried to remain on her feet.

Another car screeched up, and his grandmother’s caretaker Lula Bell jumped out. “I’m sorry, Mr. Muller, she’s off her meds again.”

“Please drive her home, Lula Bell,” Cade said through clenched teeth. He’d do it, but he was too afraid he’d throttle the woman. She might be eighty but she was spry as they came.

“Shame, shame, shame,” Nana yelled as Lula Bell dragged her toward her car.

Cade yanked Marci inside the door to escort her to booking. Her breathing sounded labored, and more tears had begun to pour.

He gritted his teeth. He should have seen that coming.

“I’m sorry for your Nana,” Marci said with a gulp, surprising him.

He figured she’d be mad as a hornet.

Still, he ignored her sniffles and her apology. If she had helped Pendergrass, her words meant nothing.

Once they processed her, he intended to lock her into an interrogation room and get some answers.

And no amount of eye batting or lip licking was going to stop him from finding out the truth.

But first he’d let her stew in holding for a while. A little time to meet a few of the inmates and think about what she’d done might persuade her to talk when he finally questioned her.

Besides, he needed to calm down. Brace himself to battle her beguiling eyes and sultry voice.

He also had to gather the evidence he’d collected to show her just in case she needed extra incentive to give him a confession.

*~*~*~*

“Turn to the right, Ma’am.”

Marci swiped at her tattered veil as she did as the officer instructed.

“Now left.”

She gave him her left side, although she wanted to point out that her right profile was her better side.

Not that he cared.

From the moment Detective Muller had escorted her in, they’d treated her like some animal. And he was watching her now with hawk eyes as if he thought she was hiding something beneath her gown.

Ink stained her fingers from the fingerprinting, forcing her to try not to touch her dress for fear she’d leave black spots on the lace.

Another hysterical laugh caught in her throat. Why in the heck did she care if she got ink on her dress? Her wedding day was ruined. Her dress was already in shambles.

Her future was a wreck.

Now she had a criminal record.

And if the cop’s accusations were true and Paul was a con artist, her bank account was probably empty as well.

No way to even pay for the attorney she desperately needed to get her butt out of jail.

She could call Kim.

Shame and humiliation filled her. No…she’d always called Kim to bail her out of trouble. She had to find another way.

“Come on, Miss.”

Detective Muller hauled in the corner.  “Spread ‘em, Ma’am. We have to search you before we take you to holding.”

Search her? “You want me to strip?”

He raised a crooked brow. “Well, I was just going to pat you down but if you’re offering?”

Marci glared at him and spread her arms like they were wings. His thick long hands skated over her arms then down her sides, and his gaze lingered on her breasts with another eyebrow raise.

“They are real,” she said tightly.

“I was just wondering if you had a gun stashed in there.”

“I don’t usually pack at weddings.”

A chuckle rumbled from him, but she didn’t laugh.

“I need all your personal belongings,” he said when he’d finished running his hands over her.

“Look at me. All I have on me are my clothes.”

He gestured toward the glittery hairpins holding what was left of her curls into place. “You’ll have to remove those. They could be dangerous.”

She sighed warily and started yanking out the clips. “Like I’m going to stab someone with a hairpin.” Although she could pick the cell lock…

He looked as if he was losing patience with her so she decided she’d better shut up.

Then he gave a pointed look toward the fat diamond on her ring.  “The rock,” he said grimly.

Her chin wobbled. “You have to take my engagement ring?”

His eye raise made her feel like she’d left her brain at home this morning.

“You don’t want it in that cell. Prisoners have been killed for less.”

Marci’s heart raced.  “Killed?”

He sighed, his breath wheezing out. Still, he did have nice lips.

Stop looking at his lips, you fool. He arrested you!

“It’s procedure,” he said, then gave her shoulder a pat. “It will be returned to you when you leave.”

Marci  pursed her lips and tugged at the ring, but she’d been crying so hard her finger must have swollen.

“Really?” he asked.

“Honestly,” she said, “I always break out in a rash and my hands swell when I’m upset.”

This time his look reeked of impatience and disbelief. He took her hand and yanked so hard the ring came off, but her knees buckled and she squealed from the pain.

“Sorry.”

Marci shook her fingers to relieve the sting. “You should be. You almost broke my finger.”

He dropped the ring into an envelope. “Now the earrings and any other jewelry.”

Oh, no…Not the diamonds Paul had given her. Or that ankle bracelet.

And surely not her belly button ring…

But he reached to remove the earrings himself, and she jerked away. “I’ll do it.” She pulled the posts through her lobes and shoved them into the bag. Then she hiked up her skirt and foot and unfastened the ankle bracelet. His eyes pierced her, his darkening almost to a sultry black as she dropped it in his hand.

He was enjoying this way too much.

She was not going to divulge that she had the belly ring. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “If you lose my jewelry, I’ll sue the police department.”

“Sure you will.” A chuckle rumbled from him as another guard appeared for the envelope holding her belongings, and her heart sank as her diamonds disappeared. Fudgecake. She might need to hock them for bail money.

“Let’s go,” the chuffy guy who’d taken her mug shot said.

A nervous cough caught in her throat as he pushed her through a set of heavy metal doors. For a brief second, she had the insane urge to call for the detective.

Not that he cared about her. He thought she was guilty!

The doors clanged shut behind her with such a bang that she couldn’t help but startle. The guard’s wheezy, smoke-scented breath rattled in the air, the smell of sweat and other body odors swirling around her.

The first hints of fear crept through her as they walked down the dark hallway. She had the uncanny sensation that she was in a horror film being led to slaughter.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a holding cell. Detective Muller will call for you when he’s ready.”

Marci shuddered. She didn’t know which was more disturbing. The thought of sitting in a cell or facing that man’s dark, condemning eyes again.

He thought she’d helped steal from his little grandmother!

How could he think such a thing?

He didn’t even know her.

A sliver of hope swirled through her. That was it. She just had to talk to him and explain that he was wrong. Even with that hot temper and those piercing accusatory eyes, he was still a man. He had to have a rational side to him hiding under that big brawny body somewhere.

She just had to find it.

Feeling marginally better, she sucked in a sharp breath as the sound of voices wafted toward her. Then a group of cells slipped into view. Three on each side.

The three on the left held male prisoners. The first cell held two teens who looked stoned out of their minds. They were singing and banging on the bars as if they were drums. A heavy guy who looked like a Sumo wrestler sat on the floor in the second one, his eyes closed. Either he was asleep sitting up or in the midst of some heavy meditation. A homeless looking drunk who reeked of booze and pee hung onto the bars of the third, his eyes blurry looking.

“Hey, bride!” he yelled. “Need a husband?”

Marci grimaced.

The three cells on the right were obviously designated for the women. The first cell held two hookers with overdone make-up and tattoos that looked as if they’d been done by an amateur. She needed to tell them about her tat artist.

The second cell held a woman who had to weigh three hundred pounds. Her head looked like an onion, a slight fuss growing back where it had been shaved. And her arms were the size of ham hanks.

The last cell held a bony woman with sallow skin. Poor thing needed to quit smoking and buy a decent moisturizer.

Marci automatically reached for her purse to offer her a sample of hers, then realized she didn’t have a purse because she was in the clinker.

The cop opened cell door two and threw her in with the beefy she-man.  “You and Dorothy make nice now.”

Marci swallowed hard as the woman gave her a once-over. Then she aimed a crooked smile at her that reminded her of all the horror stories about demented prisoners in jail.

Was Dorothy going to make her her bitch before the detective could interrogate?

*~*~*~*

Cade watched Marci Turner step into the cell with the big bubba of a woman through the security cameras they’d installed in the jail last year. The mayor insisted it would ensure safer lock-ups for prisoners and offer protection to guards from false charges.

But it has also come in handy in detective work.  Some of the people they’d brought in were so upset, wasted, or cocky they often spilled details of their crimes to hang themselves without even knowing it.

“What you in for?” Dorothy asked with a grunt.  “Going barefoot with that designer dress?”

Marci actually giggled, then plopped down on the cot. “No, this mean detective ran in and stopped my wedding. He said my fiancé stole money from his granny.”

“Did he?” the skinny pale woman asked.

“No, of course not.” At Dorothy’s questioning eyebrow raise, Marci chewed on her lip, smearing that red lipstick.  Her shoulders sagged, the wedding gown slipping off one shoulder.  “Well, at least if he did, I didn’t know about it.”

Dorothy grunted again.  “That sounds like a man.”

Marci turned big innocent eyes toward her cellmate. “I just don’t get it. I thought he loved me. That he was my one and only like Kim found. Kim, she’s my twin sister, and she’s always been the good one.”

“I had a sister like that, too,” Dorothy mumbled. “Goody-two shoe.”

Marci nodded. “It’s not like she does it to make me look bad,” Marci said though in defense of her twin. “Kim’s just wired to be nice and respectable. And I was wired …”

“To mess up,” Dorothy mumbled.

“Exactly.” Marci released a defeated sigh. “But that was supposed to change today.”

Cade winced as Georgia strode in and set two cups of coffee on the table. “She confessed yet?”

“Not exactly,” Cade said, trying to get a read on Marci. Was this how she’d snowed all those innocent little old ladies into giving her boyfriend their money?

He could see how it would work. Her innocent act was almost beguiling.

Except what did she have to gain from Dorothy?

Unless she figured she’d better make friends with the woman or Dorothy might hurt her…

Marci twisted her veil in her hands, swinging her bare feet like she was a five-year-old having to sit in time-out on the playground. “What are you in for?”

Dorothy rubbed a hand over her fuzzy hair. “Caught my old man humping my neighbor in my bed.”

“Oh, my god, that’s awful.” Marci moved over and patted the woman’s hand.  “But why did they arrest you?”

“I cold cocked the bastard. Son of a bitch called the law. Said I assaulted him.” Dorothy sniffled.  “I know I don’t look so pretty right now, but that chemo done made my hair fall out and the steroids made me blimp up like a pig being fattened up for Christmas.”

“You poor thing.” Marci put her arm around the woman, and Dorothy leaned into her and blubbered like a baby.

Cade shook his head.

Five minutes later, Marci was giving Dorothy makeover advice like they were best friends.

“Listen here, Dorothy, I can get you some shampoo and conditioner to help your hair grow back in better and stronger than before. It’s a little pricey but soon as I get back to cosmetology school, maybe I can get a discount.” Marci ripped the end of her gown and used it like a handkerchief to dry Dorothy’s tears, then traced a finger along the woman’s jaw.  “Really, it’s not so bad, Dot.  You have great skin, and your eyes are wonderful. With just a touch of powder and a little of this light blue eye shadow to accentuate your eyes, you’ll be a knock out.”

Dot brightened, then Marci began examining the other woman’s nails.

Georgia huffed. “Jesus, is this woman for real?”

Cade didn’t know what to say. He’d never known anyone like Marci Turner.

Either she was innocent or the best damn liar he’d ever met.

*~*~*~*

He gripped the phone with one hand and swiped at the perspiration on his forehead with the other as he leaned against the sign for The Roadkill Café. He kicked the gravel with a curse. He was out in the middle of nowhere on some Podunk country ass road that went nowhere.

Hell, he’d driven like a maniac for the last hour chasing that asshole Pendergrass, but he’d lost him. Worse, now he’d had a flat in front of a place that served the animals they scraped off the side of the road.

The phone clicked as his boss answered. “Tell me you have the shithead.”

Might as well get it over with. “Dammit, no. He got away.”

“Find him,” his boss barked. “I don’t care what it takes, I want him brought to me.”

The sound of his boss’s unleashed fury relayed his threat. If he didn’t find the man, he was going to be road kill himself.

“Yes, boss.”

The phone went dead as his boss hung up, and he grimaced. Then an image of that sexy little woman Pendergrass had left at the altar flashed in his head.

He knew exactly how to find Pendergrass.

All he had to do was have a little chat with his bride.

The poor sweet thing was probably crushed that her fiancé had skipped out. A little sympathy and seduction, and she’d be pouring out her troubles to him in no time.

His finger rubbed the butt of his gun.

If his charms didn’t work, he knew a lot of other ways to make a woman talk.

CHAPTER FOUR

Cade jerked his head up as his captain strode in.  He took one look at the camera where Marci was now offering tips to the hookers on touching up their roots and grimaced.

“That one has either got to be dumb as dirt or a pro.”

His thinking exactly.

Although for some reason hearing his captain disparage Marci irritated him. Maybe it was his condescending way of treating everyone like they were beneath him.

That had to be it.

He didn’t care one damn iota about Marci Turner’s feelings.

Or her tears.

Or the fact that she’d been consoling Dorothy through her own breakdown and now had offered the hookers free foils, whatever the hell that was. Then she’d given her number to the withered up hag in the neighboring cell and offered to do free mud treatments on her face to take ten years off of her life so she could find a decent boyfriend.

“Did the officers find the bullet casings?” he asked, forcing his mind back on track.

“Two slugs from a .38.” Captain Rayner tilted his head to the side as Marci  yanked up her dress to show off the tattoo on her upper thigh.  “Wow, just a little more, sweetcakes,” Rayner muttered beneath his breath.

Cade gritted his teeth.

A little more and you’d be able to see her underwear. That is, if she was wearing any. Which she probably wasn’t.

Or maybe she had on those sexy see through thongs…

The drunk across the way practically poked his head through the bars straining to get a better look himself. Sometime between the discussion about tips versus gel nails and root jobs, the sumo wrestler had emerged from his coma to admire the latest addition to their cozy little cellblock.

Marci hitched up her hip. “See, how detailed the lily is,” Marci said proudly.  “Now, the guy I use, Spike, he’s such a doll baby and so professional. He can clean up your butterfly and fill it in to make it look really pretty.”

Cade found himself squinting as Layla, the redheaded hooker, examined the tattoo on her upper arm.  It looked more like a snake than a butterfly.

“You sure he won’t charge me too much?”  Layla asked.

Marci shook her head. “Just tell him I sent you and he’ll cut you a deal. We go back.”

Cade just bet they did.

“She’s a wealth of information,” Georgia said dryly. “Maybe she could start her own version of Cosmo in jail.”

The captain laughed, but Cade felt his blood boil.  Marci Turner was making a sham out of jail.  For God’s sakes, she was practically soliciting clients as if she was opening her own spa. “Okay, where are we on the case?  Did the officers find out anything from the guests? Anyone see anything?”

“Nothing concrete.” The captain consulted his notes.  “Three women said they thought the shooter was a white male about seventy. Of course, they were all blind as bats and had mimosas for breakfast.” He paused to check on Marci in case she offered more of her body parts for the viewing, but thankfully she’d pulled that tattered wedding gown back down and was busy showing the other girls the artwork her nail tech had done on her toes.

“I messed that one up when that hateful detective shoved me in the police car,” Marci said.

Sympathetic moans rumbled from the other women and Dot tssked. “Some of those cops are real pigs. They like to show off their power.”

Dammit, he was not like that. And he had not shoved her.

“I know. Just look at this.” Marci twisted her arm sideways, and his gut clenched. Good God. She did have a bruise on her arm.

One that had his finger indentations all over it.

“One geezer said he thought the shooter was a female wearing man’s clothing,” the captain continued, oblivious to Cade’s tumultuous thoughts. “Another woman said he looked like her dead uncle Bob.”

“Good grief,” Georgia muttered. “What a cluster.”

The captain rubbed his balding head. “Yeah, we’ve got seventy-five guests, half of whom probably had motive to shoot the man and his bride.”

“We’ll question them all again,” Georgia said. “Find out if any of them knew what Pendergrass had pulled.”

“Then there are the ones who weren’t invited to the wedding,” the captain muttered.

Cade flexed his hands, guilt gnawing at him. He hadn’t meant to hurt the woman…

“Muller?” Captain Rayner barked. “Are you even listening?”

Cade knotted his hands into fists and vowed to be more careful when handling female suspects. “I heard. But the list is even longer. We have to consider the victims he conned while using his other aliases.”

“You’re right,” Rayner said. “I’ll start working on that list.”

“And I’ll start with the wedding guests,” Georgia said.

Cade frowned. They had a virtual cesspool of suspects.

He grabbed the file of evidence he needed to show Marci. “I guess that leaves me with the bride.”

“Her sister stormed in wanting to post bail and get her out,” Rayner said.

“We have twenty-four hours before we have to release her,” Cade said. “I’m going to use every one of them.”

Determination renewed, he strode from the room. For all he knew, Marci knew exactly where Pendergrass was headed. She might even know who’d been shooting at him. If someone had discovered their con game, Pendergrass could have known his time was limited. Maybe that was why he’d planned this impromptu wedding. After all, he and Marci had only dated six weeks.

Pendergrass probably intended to use his honeymoon as a cover to flee the country.

He would do his job and unearth the truth from her.

Maybe she was ready to talk.

And if not, tonight he’d let her sleep in that cell and think about it.  One night on that cot, and she’d probably spill her guts all over the place.

Then he could track down Pendergrass and lock his ass up. And if Marci was guilty, she’d go to jail, too, and he’d be done with both of them.

*~*~*~*

“Stay strong!” Dottie yelled as the officer opened the cell and gestured for Marci to follow him.

She gave Dottie a big hug.   “Hang in there. If I’m not back in a little bit, I’ll come back and check on you tomorrow.”

Dottie sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

“Don’t tell them anything,” Layla warned her in a low voice.

“You’ve got rights, sister,” the other hooker shouted.

Marci hiked her wedding gown to her knees to keep from tripping over it, and held her head up as she left the cell.

Really, everything was going to be all right.

All she had to do was tell the truth and she’d be out of here in no time.

At least she’d made some friends while she was here. That was even better. They might not be society girls, but they were real and caring, and a girl like her needed all the friends she could get.

Especially since she was pretty sure she would be ostracized from the country club. She might even lose her waitressing job which she was going to need to pay a lawyer if she didn’t convince this detective she was innocent.

Thank heavens Paul had already paid off her tuition for cosmetology school so at least she didn’t have to worry about that.

The sumo guy banged on the bars. “Don’t forget to ask for your phone call, Marci.”

“Yeah, sugar,” the drunk said in a slurred voice. “Call my boy. He’s a lawyer.”

She made a mental note to come back and check on each one of them when she was released. Just because they were in trouble didn’t mean she’d turn her back on them.

After all, once she received her license to do hair, she’d need customers. And those little women from the club she’d expected to line up at the door for her services might decide to take their business to a stylist without a rap sheet.

*~*~*~*

Cade steeled himself as the guard escorted Marci into the interrogation room. She offered him a saccharine sweet smile, her breasts rising as she inhaled a deep breath.

His cool look shouted a warning. Your flirting won’t work on me, sweetheart.

She must have read his mind because her eyes flickered with concern for a moment, then she settled into the hard folding chair at the table, that damn dress crinkling around her as she spread out the yards of lace and crinoline.

He gave her time to adjust, gritting his teeth at the sight of those bare red toes. They should have forced her to change into an orange jumpsuit when she’d come in.

She looked ridiculous in that gown with her tear-stained eyes and tattered veil.  Like a helpless innocent woman who’d been jilted at the altar.

Well, technically she had been jilted at the altar.

But helpless and innocent? He didn’t think so.

“Detective, can we please get this over with so I can go home and change.”

She scratched at the telltale signs of a rash on her neck.

So she hadn’t been lying about that.

“Certainly,” Cade said, adopting his professional demeanor. He mentally contemplated the best way to handle her. Good cop or bad cop?

He propped his butt against the table. “In fact, why don’t you start by telling us where your fiancé is?”

Marci winced, then picked at a thread that had come loose on her veil.  “I don’t know. Probably on his way to Tahiti.”

Cade arched a brow. “Is that where you planned your get away?”

Marci lifted her chin in defiance.  “That’s where we planned our honeymoon.”

He knew Georgia was watching through the two-way mirror and that she was rushing to check it out.

“Do you have a house there or is that just a stopover?”

Marci continued to pick at the loose thread, the veil unraveling in her hands.  “It was an all inclusive seven day package.” Her voice cracked slightly.  “Then we were moving into the house in Buckhead.”

“Ahh, the mansion.”

She nodded, a tiny smile lighting her eyes. “Frankly I thought it was a little big. I mean I’ve never lived in anything but a one-bedroom and I don’t need showy things. But Paul said it was perfect for us, that he wanted me to have a nice big place to entertain all our friends.”

“All those people you stole from?”

“We didn’t steal anything,” Marci cried.

Cade crossed his arms and gave her a challenging look.  “You most certainly did, Miss Turner. And the sooner you admit the details and tell us what account Pendergrass hid the money in, we can talk about a deal for you.”

“A deal?” Marci stood, banging the table.   “I’m not making a deal because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You may rethink that when you see the evidence we have against you and Pendergrass, Miss Turner.”

“Please call me Marci.”

Another attempt to get personal with him?

Cade pulled out the chair across from Marci and sank into it. Methodically he opened a folder and removed a list of all the people Pendergrass had cheated in the two states prior to the Georgia scam.

“Do you know a man named Sebastian Zuckerman?” Cade asked.

Marci shook her head. “No, why should I?”

“We think he’s partners with Pendergrass.”

Marci gulped.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He tapped the list of names, then flipped two more pages. “Look at this.”

Marci leaned forward and eyed it, her forehead wrinkling. “What is it?”

“Before your fiancé came to Atlanta, he pulled schemes in Texas and Florida.”

“What?”

“These are all people who lost money to him and his famous Desert Sand Resort.” For the first time she’d entered, panic flickered in Marci’s eyes.

“What are you talking about?”  Marci yanked her dress up where it was slipping down.

Cade averted his eyes. The cleavage show wasn’t going to work on him.

He removed photographs of the resort land the couple had supposedly been selling.  “This is the Desert Sand Resort package Paul Pendergrass sold?”

Marci nodded, then pointed to various pictures as she spoke.  “That’s the pool and spa area,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “And those are the beach cottages. This section over here is for people who need assisted living facilities. The staff treats them like guests, not patients.” Her voice gained momentum. “And look how close it is to the beach and the intracoastal waterway. Some of the units have magnificent views of the sunset. You can sit on your balcony or porch with wine or coffee and watch the boats go by at night.”

Cade studied her mannerisms and the sparkle in her eyes.  Her enthusiasm was convincing. He almost believed that she believed the place was real.

“So you’ve visited the resort and seen all the amenities?”

Marci chewed her bottom lip.  “No, but Paul has. And he had an entire slide show that he presented to all the clients.”

“Right.” Cade angled the laptop on the table toward her. “These are some of the photos?”

Marci narrowed her eyes. “Yes, see how beautiful it is there.” She crunched the veil in her hands.  “I don’t know why you keep insisting he cheated people. They got a great deal.”

Cade clicked a button.  “This is what they got, Miss Turner.”  Photos of the real Desert Sand property spieled onto the screen.

“I told you to call me Marci.”  Her eyes widened in confusion as she watched the photo display.  “This is not Desert Sand,” she said emphatically.  “This place is…not even a resort.”

“No,” Cade said.  “This is desert land. Deserted, flat, dry, hot, unbuildable.”

Marci shook her head in denial, her hair brushing her bare shoulders with the movement and momentarily distracting him.

Jesus.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, she snatched the pictures on the table. “This is the resort. It’s gorgeous and sunny and everyone’s dream place to retire.”

“It is just that,” Cade said, disturbed now. He had the sinking feeling that Marci had been duped herself.  “A dream because it’s not real. Pendergrass used a little trick called Photoshop and turned this dried up inhabitable land into the resort you see on the screen.”

Marci gasped, twisting the veil again, this time so hard she ripped it in two.

A knock sounded on the door and Georgia slipped in, her dark brows pinched in concern. She motioned for him to step outside for a second, and he left Marci fidgeting in the seat.

“I pulled some background info on Marci Turner and her financials. Thought you might need them.”

He took the file from her.  Probably more info to hang her with. “Thanks.”

He opened the file and studied it, anger knotting his belly as he stepped back inside the room.  Georgia followed him inside and leaned on the table across from Marci.

He took the chair again, studying Marci while Georgia played bad cop. “Come on, Miss Turner, we’ll go easier on you if you cooperate.”

One look at Georgia, and Marci Turner paled.  “I think I should make my phone call,” Marci whispered.

Cade simply stared at her, determined to stay unaffected. She still might have information that he needed. And he’d use her if necessary to catch the bastard who’d cheated his nana and hundreds of other people.

“We’re not done yet, Miss Turner.” Georgia pointed to the folder.  “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’d help Pendergrass,” Georgia said. “So I took a look at your past. Your father abandoned you and your sister when you were little.”

Pain flickered in Marci’s eyes.  “So?”

“And your mother has been married at least three times.”

Marci picked at the hem of her dress. “I don’t see what this has to do with me being here.”

“All through school you trailed your sister in everything,” Georgia continued. “Her grades were always better. She made president of the class. You failed class after class and were always in trouble.”

Cade’s stomach knotted as Marci twisted in her seat.

“She went to college while you worked at a bar waitressing.”

“That was my choice,” Marci said with a defiant tilt to her chin.

“Or maybe you did it because you couldn’t keep up with your twin. Then a few months ago, she marries this handsome architect and once again, she shows you up.”

“If you’re implying that I’m jealous of my sister, you’re wrong,” Marci said evenly.

“Maybe not jealous, but you feel like a failure next to her. She graduated with honors, won the good man, has financial stability.” Georgia’s voice rose, a brittle edge to it.

This time Cade shifted. Good god, she could be describing his relationship with his brother.

“Then you met Paul Pendergrass and decided he was your ticket to success.” Georgia leaned closer. “Maybe you thought you could finally show up your sister.”

Marci crossed her arms and looked away as if Georgia had hit the nail on the head.

Georgia slapped the table. “You were so desperate to have the things your sister did that you didn’t care if you had to cheat people to do it.”

Marci’s eyes blazed a vehement trail toward Georgia. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” Marci said. “I would never cheat those people at the club. They were my friends.”

A tense second passed, then Georgia’s phone buzzed and she gestured that she should take it.

Cade cleared his throat as she left the room, and indicated the file again. Marci looked so pitiful that he almost wanted to let her off the hook.

Do your job, dammit.  “I see you have a prior criminal record,” he said calmly.

Marci’s eyed widened.   “What?”

He removed a copy of the document. “You were arrested for shoplifting when you were fifteen.”

Marci chewed on her fingernail for a minute. “Those records were supposed to be sealed.”

“I’m a detective, I can unseal them.”

“But that’s not fair,” Marci stammered. “I was just a messed up kid when that happened.”

“Some people are tried as adults at fifteen.”

Marci threw her hands up in frustration. “I took a pair of lace panties because all the other girls in gym made fun of my old lady ones. It’s not like I hurt anybody.”

He couldn’t imagine Marci ever wearing old lady panties. “But it proves that if you want something you take it.” He laid a photo of the house Pendergrass had supposedly bought for them on the table in front of her.  “Is this Buckhead mansion you told me you and Pendergrass were moving into?”

A heartbeat passed. The chair rattled. “Yes.”

“It was a lie, too, Marci.”

She lifted those beguiling eyes toward him, tears suddenly filling them. “You’re lying. That house is ours. We were moving in there next week when we returned from our honeymoon.”

“No, you weren’t, Marci. Pendergrass never bought this place. My guess is he took the money he told you he used to pay for it and put it in his pocket.”

“Paul wouldn’t do that,” Marci said in a raw whisper. “He loved me. He wanted me to have that house. He paid for my school tuition, too, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Cade grimaced, then laid another printout on the table.  “I hate to break this to you, but your fiancé didn’t pay your tuition.”

Marci gasped. “No…that can’t be true.”

He hated to dig the knife in deeper but she had to face reality.  “It’s true, Marci. He also emptied out your bank account.”

*~*~*~*

Marci shuddered as she stared at the papers in front of her.  Her tuition hadn’t been paid.

Her bank accounts were wiped out.

Paul had…lied to her. Cheated those innocent, sweet little ladies out of their savings.

Cheated her out of hers!

The door swung open, and that female cop clomped in. “Pendergrass was spotted at the airport.”

“Did they catch him?” Detective Muller asked.

“No, he saw the cops and he got away. He’s in the wind now.”

Detective Muller looked back at Marci.  “Where’s your lover boy going now?”

Marci ripped the rest of the hem off her dress. “I don’t know but I’m going to kill him when I find out.” In fact, she might save this dress and choke him with it when she did.

CHAPTER FIVE

Marci woke up with a crick in her neck, then realized Dottie had curled up behind her on the same cot and was spooning her.  She twisted sideways and stared at her, the idea of sleeping with another woman so close reminding her that she should have  been having wild sex on her honeymoon last night instead of sharing a prison cot with another inmate.

Then she reminded herself that Dottie was in here by mistake, too. She had a right to slug her no-good, two-timing bastard of a husband.

A rumble echoed off the walls, and she extracted herself from the woman’s chunky arms.

Bless her heart.  Dottie must have sleep apnea because she was snoring like a hippo.

Birdie Waller from the Curl Up & Dye where she’d been doing her practice work said her mama told her to put a butter knife under her mattress and that had helped her snoring. But the guards here probably wouldn’t let Dottie have a butter knife.

She sat up and stretched, her muscles yearning for her morning yoga. But reality hit her with a vengeance, the horrific events of the day before flashing through her mind on speed dial as she looked down at her disheveled wedding dress which was torn, thanks to her nervous energy, and wound around her ankles.

The orange jumpsuit Detective Muller had offered her to sleep in mocked her from the floor. She’d told him in no certain terms that orange wasn’t her color and asked for pink or blue but the SOB had just grunted.

The man didn’t have a heart.

But he sure did have some sexy bedroom eyes.

And a body that made a woman break out in a sweat. Very unladylike, but hey, some men just had that effect on a girl, and Detective Muller with his dark-as- sin eyes, and that chiseled face, and that stupid lock of hair that kept falling across his forehead, and that big…gun could almost make a girl forget she had a ring on her finger.

She glanced down at her hand.

Well, technically now she didn’t have that diamond because the cops had confiscated it, but she was engaged.

Not really, a tiny voice whispered.

Because her fiancé had fled from the altar like a bat out of hell.

Or a guilty man…

Images of the paperwork the detective had shown her haunted her. Her dream house…not hers at all.  Her paid tuition…non-existent. Her bank account, all those tips she’d worked her butt off to earn…gone.

Her future…in shambles.

What if she was convicted and sent to jail?

The sumo guy sat up, rubbing his eyes, but the drunk old man across from her was deep in never-never land, the smell of booze reeking off of his dirty clothes and beard. She wondered what he’d look like cleaned up.

Was his son really a lawyer?

If so, she needed his name. She just hoped he’d take an IOU since she was broke,

Suddenly footsteps echoed on the cement floor, and the low rumble of voices in the distance. Two guards.

The one who’d frisked her and taken her ring the night before appeared with Detective Muller by his side.

Embarrassment flooded Marci as she realized she must look a fright. Where the handsome cop – irritating as he was – was dressed in a dark blue shirt that looked decadent against his olive skin, and he’d shaved and his hair was still damp from the shower.

God, she wanted a shower.

His dark gaze raked over her, then he gave her his deadpan cold stare. “Your sister is here to see you.”

Relief warred with disappointment. Kim must be furious. She’d had to deal with the fallout from the runaway groom and the bride in handcuffs and handle the details of the wedding that didn’t happen.

What had they done with all those drinks and that beautiful wedding cake?

Oh, wait, the memory returned. Paul had knocked the cake off the stand when he’d raced through the ballroom with the police on his tail. As far as the drinks, she wished she had one now.

God. Kim hated publicity and had made a reputation in the community for helping kids.

She’d probably hidden out all night in shame. Once again because of her.

How was she going to face her today?

*~*~*~*

Cade rolled his shoulders as he escorted Marci to the front. Protests from the others in the neighboring cells echoed in his ears. The same group that she had won over the night before in her cellblock rallied to free her this morning.

Hell, they’d been singing Kumbaya and holding hands through the cells like they were at some kids’ camp before the guards had finally made them shut down around midnight.

“You’d better not hurt her again!” Dottie yelled.

“She’s innocent,” the sumo guy shouted.

The drunk reached for her hand as she passed his cell.  “Remember to call my son Harry. He’ll take care of you.”

If the man’s son was a lawyer, why he hadn’t come to bail his father out?

Marci was rubbing her wrists, and he winced as he glanced down. The bruise on her arm had turned a nasty purple. She must bruise easily.

He had not hurt her.

At least not intentionally.

That stupid dress swished again, then got caught in the door as he opened it.

“Darn it,” Marci muttered as she tried to pull it free.

He growled in frustration then opened the door again, crinoline bunching up in his hands as he shoved the miles of fabric through the opening. Still, three inches of the white lacy stuff ripped and remained wedged in the door edge when he closed it again.

“Thank you,” Marci said primly.

He simply glared at her because she was being so damn nice to him, and he knew she had to be uncomfortable after sleeping on that cot with the bubba woman.

Besides he had a bad feeling he might have lost Pendergrass again.

And if the scene he’d watched with Marci leading that sing-along was any indication, the only thing Marci was guilty of was being snowed by the smooth-talking bastard just like his other victims.

Which meant she’d been jilted at the altar by the man she loved, and he’d stolen all her money.

Yep, Pendergrass was a real stand-up example of male DNA.

Hell, was he any better? If she was as innocent as she appeared to be, he’d publicly humiliated her in the worst possible way.

“Where are you taking me now?” she asked, sounding deflated.

“Your sister posted your bail,” he said flatly.

He omitted the fact that this morning her sister had reamed his ass out with a few choice words about what a monster he was for dragging Marci off in handcuffs from her wedding in front of her friends and the press.

Instead he remained stoic, reminding himself he had only been doing his job as he led her past security through another set of doors to the front desk where Kim stood pacing like a frantic mother hen. For God’s sake, he’d been terrified she’d go into labor while he went to get her sister.

She took one look at Marci’s disheveled appearance and burst into tears. “Oh, my god, Marci, are you okay?”

Marci blinked rapidly as if to stem a breakdown, then Kim dragged her into a hug as if she hadn’t seen her in years. “Tell me, sis, did they hurt you in there?” Kim pulled back to exam her, checking her face and body as if she’d expected Marci to have been beaten.

“I’m fine,” Marci said with a fake I’m-trying-to-be-brave smile.

But Kim spied the bruise on Marci’s arm and gasped. “My god, what happened to you in there?”

“Nothing,” Marci rushed to assure her. “He gave that to me --” She turned and gave him a pointed look – “when he dragged me into his car.”

Kim swung toward him, her hands fisted on her hips, which only yanked her damn maternity top tighter across her belly.  He knew pregnant women were hormonal and sometimes trauma could cause problems and hoped to hell her water didn’t break right here on the floor.

“You brute, you’re going to be sorry you hurt my sister,” Kim said, her tone fuming.  “She should sue you for police brutality.”

Cade gritted his teeth. He was sorry for the bruise. But it had been an accident. Marci must have some medical condition that caused her to bruise easily.

Kim started toward him, but Marci caught her. “Don’t sweat it, Kim. He’s not worth it.”

Cade’s temper boiled. He had just been doing his job.

And had they forgotten that Pendergrass was the lying, cheating crook, not him?

Still, Marci’s mussed hair and swollen eyes did make her look vulnerable.  For a second, he was tempted to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.

God help him. He knew better.

If he touched her, he might forget that she was a suspect in an ongoing investigation.

“Am I free to go now?” Marci asked him in a low voice.

He gave a clipped nod and gestured toward the desk adjacent to them. “You can pick up your belongings at the desk.”

“Come on.” Kim took Marci’s arm. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

Marci nodded, and the two of them walked over to the desk. Cade stood to the side while Marci signed for her belongings, then he handed the envelope to her.

She glanced inside, eyes narrowed in suspicion, as if she expected they had stolen her jewelry.

A second later, the muscles in her face relaxed as she pulled out the ring. The enormous diamond glittered beneath the lights.

He waited to see if she’d tuck it back on that finger, but she turned it over in her palm and examined it, suspicious again, as if she thought they might have switched out the stone for glass while she spent the night in the clinker.

“For God’s sake, it’s the same ring,” he muttered.

Finally satisfied, she gave a disheartened sigh then stuffed it back into the envelope.

Then she and Kim linked arms, huddling together as they disappeared out the door.

Georgia rushed toward him, her expression animated. “Cade, I just talked to forensics and they were checking Marci’s cell phone.”

Right. They’d confiscated her personal items from the country club bridal room.  “What did they find?”

“No proof,” Georgia said. “But it looks like Pendergrass called Marci after he ran.”

Did the man really love Marci?

“What did he say?”

“That he’d call her back.”

“Did you get a location on him?”

Georgia shook her head. “No, he was calling from a burner phone.”

Shit. Cade’s mind ticked over what to do.  “Keep the trace on her cell and put one on her home phone. When Pendergrass calls back we can nab him.”

“You think they had a back-up plan? Maybe a place to meet so they can escape together?”

Cade frowned. “I don’t know, but we can’t dismiss the possibility.”

If Marci had lied, she might be meeting Pendergrass. Which meant she might know where he’d hidden his money.

Or where he was going next.

Adrenaline kicked in. Hell, he’d run surveillance on Marci and find out just what that sweet-looking little vixen was up to.

If she intended to catch up with Pendergrass, he’d catch both of them red-handed.

Then he’d never ever have to think about Marci Turner again.

*~*~*~*

Marci sank into the passenger side of Kim’s new mini-van, shoving the crinoline around her to fasten her seatbelt. Right now all she wanted was a hot shower and a change of clothes.

She buried her hands in her dress and dipped her head, too ashamed to even look at her sister. Kim was the director of a home for needy children and depended on donations to keep the place running.

What if some of her supporters saw the news story about her and pulled their backing?

Worry darkened Kim’s face as she chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’d seen her sister do countless times before.

When she’d had to bail her out of trouble.

“You really are all right?” Kim asked.

Marci nodded, then realized Kim’s eyes were glued to the road so she mumbled yes.  “I’m sorry, Kim.”

“Sorry?” Kim said, with an angry shake of her head. “Marci, please tell me you didn’t have any idea what Paul was doing.”

Marci wrung her hands together.  “You honestly think I would cheat those people out of their money.” That really hurt.

“I didn’t say that,” Kim said, although her voice cracked as if she doubts had crept in.

The familiar tone -- Kim being the good twin and always doing the right thing -- echoed in her voice.

The Kim she could never live up to.

Marci’s anger sprouted. “So you automatically assume Paul is guilty?”

Kim’s eyes blazed as she swung her head toward her.  “Don’t tell me you’re going to defend him. He left you at the altar and ran from the cops.”

“Maybe he has an explanation,” Marci said, although she hadn’t slept all night for wondering what that explanation could possibly be.

And if Paul was exactly what Detective Muller had said he was – a cheat and a liar.

Of course, she didn’t want to admit that to Kim.

But her insecurities mounted. Had Paul ever loved her?

Was she such a big fat fool that he could have duped her?

“Good heavens, Marci,” Kim muttered.  “If he was innocent, he would have stayed and defended himself. He would have protected you instead of leaving you holding the bag.”

Marci winced and turned to look out the window.

A tense heartbeat passed, then Kim sighed.  “You didn’t tell the police anything, did you? I mean, you know not to talk without a lawyer.”

“I didn’t need a lawyer,” Marci said. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Good grief, you did talk.” Kim moaned.

“I told the truth,” Marci said, her chest pounding.

Kim wove through traffic, then turned down Peachtree toward Marci’s condo. “For God’s sake, I tried to bail you out last night but they wouldn’t let me. But I thought you’d have enough sense to keep your mouth closed and request a lawyer.”

Marci folded her arms and clamped her mouth shut.  She knew Kim was just worried about her, and she’d vowed never to put her in a spot like this, but it wasn’t her fault she’d been falsely arrested.

Kim veered into her condo complex, and Marci groaned at the sight of the news vans outside the building.

“How did they know I was coming home now?” Marci muttered.

“They’ve had someone camped there all night waiting for your story.”

“Well, then I’ll give it to them,” Marci said as she reached for the door handle.

“No, you won’t.” Kim gripped her arm to stop her.  “Austin is waiting to help us get in. You’d better not say a word until we get you an attorney.”

“But I can’t let all my sweet customers think I stole their money. The press can tell them that.”

“Marci,” Kim said, her eyes narrowed. “They can also twist everything you say and find some way to hang this crime on you. So I’m warning you, keep your mouth closed for once.”

Tears stung Marci’s eyes. Did her sister really think she was so stupid?

Austin wove through the reporters, fending them off with a terse “no comment”, then appeared at her door. Kim jumped out, and she and Austin surrounded Marci, herding her toward the entrance to her unit.

The reporters flocked around them, pummeling her with questions.

“Do you know where Paul Pendergrass is?”

“Did you know he was stealing money from people?”

“Did you help him escape?”

Marci bit her tongue. If she’d helped him escape, she wouldn’t have spent the night in the pokey by herself!

Austin threw up an arm to ward them off as they rushed up the steps to her second floor apartment. Two of the blasted reporters trailed them like rabid dogs, but Kim and Austin managed to keep them at bay while Austin unlocked her door.

Marci practically fell inside from Kim’s push, then Austin slammed the door in the vulture’s faces. But instead of relief, her stomach lurched.

Someone had broken into her apartment and ransacked it. The couch cushions were scattered on the floor, the cabinets and drawers wide open, papers littering the floor as if they’d been pawed through.

Then she glanced inside her bedroom and moaned.  The destruction in there was even worse.

Her clothes had been rifled through, underwear hanging from the drawers, the bed tousled, her satin comforter stripped and tossed on the floor, the mattress askew.

Who had been here? And what had they been looking for?

*~*~*~*

A smile curved his mouth. Marci Turner was out of jail.  It looked as if her twin and her husband had bailed her out.

He slid deeper into the seat of his car and focused his camera on her apartment as she entered. The cameras he’d installed while she’d wrestled on that cot in her cell last night would come in handy.

He would know everything little Miss Turner did. Every conversation she had. Every phone call. Every visitor.

And when she connected with Pendergrass – which he had no doubt she would – he’d follow her pretty ass right to the man.

Then he’d have them both right where he wanted them.

CHAPTER SIX

Marci’s emotions pingponged like a yoyo.  Fear mingled with the sickening feeling of being violated.

“Who did this?” Kim whispered.

“The cops probably searched the place,” Austin said.

The cops?

Detective Muller’s handsome, dark-stubbled face flashed in her mind. Sexy or not, having a badge didn’t give him the right to paw through her house and tear it up like an animal.

She saw a red negligee hanging over the side of her chest of drawers and grimaced. He certainly had no right to look through her underwear.

Furious, she glanced around for her purse and cell phone. “Did you get my things from the country club, Kim?”

Kim averted her eyes. “I’m afraid the police took them, sis.”

“They took my purse?” Granted it was a knockoff Luis Viton but she’d paid fifty dollars for it!

“Yes,” Kim said.  “When I went back to the bridal room, they were searching through your wallet.”

So they’d found her emergency stash of extra large neon condoms. Detective Muller probably got a real kick out of that.

“And my phone?”

“The phone, too,” Kim said. “They said they had to log it into evidence.”

Evidence to pin a crime on her. One she hadn’t committed.

Did that irritating mule-headed cop even care if she was innocent? Or did he just get his kicks my manhandling and locking up women?

What had his mama done to him to make him hate women so much?

His nana had her money stolen, a little voice reminded her.

Well, hell, so he was protective of one female. Maybe he only cared about women once they hit their golden years…

Furious, Marci stormed through the apartment taking note of everything that had been tossed and torn apart.  Her underwear was scattered on the floor, silk blouses bunched in piles, her waitress uniform in shreds. Her other clothes had been ripped from hangars, some of them turned inside out as if someone had been searching for something sewn inside the damn hems.

And her shoes – she’d carefully organized, stored and stacked them according to season, color and style.

Every box had been opened, the shoes dumped on the floor, the sling backs mixed with the pumps, the pumps throw in with the stilettos. One red heel thrown in with a black sandal. Her pink flats in two separate boxes.

A travesty.

And the worst, someone had slashed her mattress so the stuffing was pouring out like chicken feathers.

Kim moved up behind her.   “I’m so sorry, Marci.”

“Give me your phone, Kim,” Marci said.

“Now, sis,” Kim started.  “Take a deep breath.”

Marci held out her hand, palm up. “Your. Phone. Now.”

Kim tugged her cell phone from her handbag and slid into her hand. “Please, sis, I know you’re upset, but you need to be careful. You don’t want that detective to haul you back in to jail.”

Marci ignored her and stabbed the number for the police department. Seconds later, she asked to be put through to Detective Muller.

“Miss Turner,” the man said in that gruff voice that probably charmed some women out of their pants. “Did you call to confess?”

“No. I called to ask you why you tore my apartment apart. Did you get some sick pleasure out of scattering my underwear across the floor?”

A tense second passed, then Detective Muller cleared his throat. “Your apartment was searched, but I was there. Your things were not torn apart.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Marci shouted. “I’m standing here looking at my clothes and shoes. You left my mattress on the floor.  And someone ripped it open with a knife.”

Another tense second passed then Detective Muller sighed. “Are you alone?”

“No, my sister and brother-in-law are here.”

“Stay put,” he said. “And don’t touch anything. I’ll be right over.”

“No— ”

But the detective didn’t wait. He hung up on her!

Crap! She just wanted to vent her rage. She didn’t want the blasted man to come over!

*~*~*~*

Detective Muller’s pulse clamored as he headed to his car.   Unless Marci was exaggerating, which was entirely possible  since he’d pegged her as a drama queen early in his investigation,  someone had broken into her place after the police had searched it. Granted the police had made a bit of a mess but slashing mattresses hadn’t been part of the process.

Of course if they’d been looking at a junkie they would have.

Although they had felt underneath the mattress to see if there were any unusual lumps or seams in case Marci had stashed money inside, but hadn’t noticed anything worthy of further scrutiny.

He punched in Georgia’s number as he peeled from the parking lot and headed toward Marci’s apartment.  “Georgia, did ballistics find anything unusual on those bullets?”

“No,” she said.  “Came from a .38 but didn’t match any recent crimes we have in the system.”

He muttered something low in his throat.  “I’m headed to Marci Turner’s apartment.” He explained about her phone call.  “Could be the shooter so I’m going to have a crime unit search for prints.”

“Yeah, or it could be one of the hundreds of people Pendergrass conned. Maybe they thought Marci hid some of their money in her apartment.”

“Or maybe they’re like us. They think she knows where Pendergrass went and want the information so they can find him,” Cade said.

Georgia chuckled. “You know if we wait long enough, maybe a group of the old timers will track him down and do our jobs for us.”

Cade laughed as he imagined the seniors beating Pendergrass with their canes and walkers. “Would serve him right.”

“You gonna stake out her place tonight?” Georgia asked.

Cade grimaced. “Yes, I have to.”

“Do you need some company?” She lowered her voice. “Don’t want her hypnotizing you with that little tush of hers so you forget why you’re there.”

Little? Hmm. An image of Marci’s sexy tush flashed in his mind. It was actually plush and curvy which he found a whole lot sexier than those girls that ate like rabbits and had bodies of bones.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been chasing Pendergrass too long to let anything distract me from finding him.”

Even the voluptuous Marci Turner.

“Good. Then I’ll keep going down the list of victims.  So far, three of the women I’ve talked to still believe Pendergrass is a sweetheart. That he’s not only innocent, but that he’s a saint who’d saved them from a tragic nursing home and ensured them they’ll live their golden years sipping martinis. Another vic’s husband’s hands are too far gone with arthritis to hold a gun steady, and I talked to one ex who said it was his wife’s money and that she deserved to lose it for thinking she was a cougar and flirting with a younger man.”

Cade shook his head and turned off Peachtree Street into Marci’s apartment complex. Most of the apartments in Midtown had security, but hers was an older building that looked as if it needed repairs and the only security was a set of cameras that the police discovered hadn’t worked in a decade.

Of course, she lived here on her waitressing salary.

No wonder she’d jumped at whatever deal Pendergrass had offered.

Even marriage if it she’d thought it meant that Buckhead mansion came with it.

He parked in between an SUV and her sister’s mini-van, then climbed out and strode toward the metal staircase leading to her apartment. Overgrown bushes crowded the corner by the staircase, making him antsy. Why the fool woman had chosen a back unit in the corner escaped him.

There were at least a dozen places for rapists and stalkers to hide.

He automatically scanned the area, senses honed for anything out of place. A dog barked somewhere nearby, and music blared from a beat-up Chevy in the parking lot. Frowning, he climbed the steps, his shoes clacking on the cheap metal steps.

A man’s whistle echoed below him, and he glanced down and spotted someone in a hoody heading around the corner, the tip of a cigarette butt glowing.

Assuming it was a teen sneaking a smoke, he checked his weapon, tugging his jacket over it, then knocked on Marci’s door. The blinds on the front door were wide open, giving anyone who wanted to spy on her the perfect opportunity. Marci’s brother-in law was pacing, his cell phone to his ear.

He knocked again, and a second later an eyeball peered through the door, then the door opened. Kim stood on other side, hands on her hips, her eyes pinning him with contempt.  “I told her not to call you.”

“If someone broke in, she needed to report it,” he said. “Or have you forgotten that someone shot at your sister and her fiancé last night?”

Her face paled as his words registered, making him feel like a heel.

Marci slipped up behind her, her face ashen, that confounded wedding dress looking worse by the minute.  “You think whoever shot at me broke in?” Marci whispered.

Dammit, fear flickered in her eyes, sucker punching him, and reminding him that even though she was a suspect in an investigation, she also could have been killed the night before, and it was his job to protect her.

A job he had to take just as seriously as he did finding her fiancé and arresting him.

*~*~*~*

Blast it! Marci wanted nothing more than to shower, change out of her mangled wedding dress and have a drink.

Even if it was eight o’clock in the morning. Surely there was some champagne left that she could drown her sorrows in.

She’d felt as if she was doing the walk of shame as she went to answer the door except that walk usually followed a night of hot sex, and she certainly hadn’t had sex the night before.

Only a night of sleeping with another inmate in her wedding gown. A reminder that her marriage had not happened.

And that her fiancé was on the lamb.

But Detective Muller had ordered her not to touch anything, so here she stood in the same dress she’d been wearing for eighteen hours, twisting her hands like a kid who’d been reprimanded by her teacher.

Hell, if she had touched something he’d probably arrest her again for disobeying him.

For a brief second insanity struck, and she wondered what he would be like in the bedroom.  Just as bossy?

Hmm…

For God’s sakes, Marci, you can’t seriously think about that man and lovemaking. He probably doesn’t know the word.

But he would know how to please a woman. She’d bet her best stilettos on that.

If she could find them, that is. They were heinously mixed in with her flats and pumps right now.

The mule-headed man who’d ruined her night glanced around the living room, then stalked to her bedroom as if he was at home.

Of course, he knew the way. He’d searched it for stolen goods.

His dark gaze met hers when he saw the destruction, only this time some emotion actually flickered in the depths. Concern?

Was he worried about her?

Hmm, now that would be interesting…

“The crime unit is on their way,” he said. “Let me take a look around.”

Summoning as much dignity as she could muster in her current situation, she nodded. Kim’s cell phone jangled, and she frowned then stepped into the other room to answer it.

But Marci remained in the threshold of the door afraid she’d go back to jail if she disobeyed him. She gestured to the mattress. “Did your people do this?”

“No.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I told you we searched your place, but no, we didn’t leave it like this.”

“How do you know?” Marci asked, sure he might lie to protect his buddies.

“Because I was here,” he said, his gaze once again meeting hers.

Marci shivered at the intensity in that look.  The very thought of him rifling through her personal belongings, especially her lingerie, made her stomach flutter.

For a brief second, she sensed that he actually might be upset about the break-in, but another knock sounded, and he jerked his gaze from hers and headed back to the den.

He didn’t wait on her to answer the door but went to it and let two young men in, then introduced them as Eddie and Borus, crime techs.

“Photograph and process the place,” Detective Muller said. “You’ll need the sister and her husband’s prints to eliminate them. We have Miss Turner’s prints on file from the arrest.”

“This could take a while,” he told her. “You may want to go somewhere else for a few hours.”

Marci wanted to scream that all she wanted was her own home and bed and shower. But Kim’s troubled expression as she hung up from her call made her bite her tongue.

“What’s wrong?” Austin asked.

Kim shook her head but averted her eyes, and Marci’s stomach somersaulted. “What is it, Kim?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Kim said. Then she started to take Austin’s arm to pull him aside.

But Marci remembered her earlier guilt over embarrassing her sister and had to know the truth. “Tell me, Kim. What’s wrong?”

The detective was watching, but Marci ignored him. Maybe if she pretended like he was a piece of furniture, a wooden table or chair, she could forget he was in the room.

“Kim?”

“Three of my investors pulled their support for the children’s center,” Kim said quietly. “They…are worried that I was involved in this scheme and may be filing charges.”

Marci literally sank onto the couch, her heart drumming to a stop. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say.

She had screwed her own life up in a big way, and she’d have to live with.

But Kim was the most honest, hardworking, sincere person she knew. And those poor kids depended on her.

None of them should have to suffer because of her.

A tense silence fell across the room, and her stomach pitched as if she might be sick. But she willed the nausea down. In the background, she heard the crime techs searching the place, dusting for prints, invading her privacy even more.

Then they fingerprinted Kim and Austin, and nausea hit her again.

Lord help.  The last thing she wanted to do was throw up in front of the mule headed cop who’d started all of this.

But she had to do something.

Something to fix it for Kim and those kids.

She took several deep breaths in the silence, the cop’s eyes heating her skin as he watched. Damn him.  Did he have to witness another humiliating moment in her life?

“Kim, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Rallying her anger, she pushed up and planted her hands on her hips.  “Where’s my phone, Detective?”

Detective Muller stiffened.  “It’s right here.”

She was tired of being a victim. She couldn’t just sit back and let things disintegrate even more. “Let me see it.”

“What are you going to do?” Kim asked, a panicked note to her voice.

“Fix things.” She grabbed Austin’s arm on one side and Kim’s on the other. “Take my sister home please.”

“Marci,” Kim said. “Please, I don’t want to leave you alone here.” She gestured at the mess. “Not like this. And not with him.”

“I’ll be fine,” Marci said. “I really need some time alone anyway. Thanks for everything. Now go home.”

Kim gave her a beseeching look and halted at the door. “No, come back to our house.”

“Kim,” Marci said through gritted teeth. “The last thing you need is for me to stay with you and ruin your image any more than it’s already been ruined.” She turned to Austin. “Take her home and call those investors and assure them that my sister wasn’t involved.”

“I’ll do my best,” Austin said. “In fact, I plan to call our attorney.”

“Good.” Marci shoved them both through the door.  “Now go. As soon as the cops leave, I’m going to shower and get some sleep.”

Kim squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you.”

Marci nodded, then closed the door.

When she turned back Detective Muller was watching her with raised eyebrows.

“What are you going to do, Marci?” he asked gruffly.

She grabbed the phone. “Just what I told my sister. I’m going to fix things.” She darted into the bathroom, shut the door and locked it.

Tears threatened as she punched her message box to see if Paul had called.

“You made this mess, Paul,” she whispered.  “Now I’m going to find your ass and you’re going to fix it.”

*~*~*~*

He smiled as that gutsy little Marci locked the bathroom door. He had a feeling she would be valuable to him at some point.

And so far he hadn’t had to do anything but watch her. Well, maybe he spooked her a little by tearing apart her apartment.

But the cop and Pendergrass had done the rest.

Now, all he had to do was sit back and wait on the little woman.

She would lead him straight to Pendergrass.

Then his problems would be solved and he would be rolling in the money.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Detective Muller stared at the closed bathroom door, his pulse clamoring. Geez, Marci Turner had spunk and fire.

She was obviously more upset about the fact that her sister was in trouble than the fact that she was.

Interesting.

He hated to admit it, but…admirable.

So if she loved her sister so much, and she thought she was about to come into a boatload of cash, wouldn’t she have let her sister in on the deal?

Although they were identical twins, just being around the two of them together for a few minutes told him how different they were.

And that Kim and her husband wouldn’t have gone along with the scheme.

Maybe Marci had protected her sister by not telling her about the con she and Paul were running.

Or maybe she’s innocent.

Then again, she might be in the bathroom now talking to Pendergrass and planning their getaway.

The crime techs continued dusting for prints while he stepped onto the stoop and phoned Georgia.  “I’m at Marci Turner’s place. It’s been trashed.”

“So someone else besides us wants Pendergrass?”

“Yeah, enough to kill him.” And maybe kill Marci to get him.  “Did forensics find anything on Marci’s laptop.”

“A lot of stuff,” Georgia said dryly. “But nothing helpful. She has tons of wedding info on there, cake designer sites, hairstyles; hell, her browser history looks like an ad for the home shopping channel.”

Cade remembered the dozens of sexy shoes on the floor of her bedroom and fought a reaction. An image of Marci wearing those red stilettos and that black lacey teddy taunted him.

He shifted, battling a hard-on.

“No hidden accounts?”

“Nada. Judging from her bank statements she lived paycheck to paycheck. Right now, the only thing we could pin on her is not reporting all her tips at the restaurant. And there’s no proof of that.  Hell, she does at least list some of them.”

Jesus. Maybe they were wrong about her.

“Keep looking.  And Georgia, check out her sister and her husband’s financials.”

“You think they were in on the scheme?”

No, he didn’t. “I’m just covering all the bases. Kimberly Turner received a call from some investors who believe she is, so we have to check it out. Hell, maybe Marci hid some money in an account in her sister’s name to cover her own butt in case they got caught.”

“Smart thinking,” Georgia said. “They look alike, she could easily have forged her signature or set up a safety deposit box.”

His gut knotted. He hoped she hadn’t, but he wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t investigate the possibility.

Although up close they looked nothing alike. Kimberly was quiet, neatly dressed, conservative.

Marci was just plain…sexy.

A word he could not keep associating with a suspect.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything,” Georgia said.

“Thanks. I’ll keep an eye on Marci tonight.”

“What’s she doing now?” Georgia asked.

“I don’t know, she’s in the bedroom.”

“Hmm,” Georgia muttered.  “Is the door closed or open?”

“Closed. The crime techs are here,” Cade said through clenched teeth.

“You’d better watch out. She could sweet talk them and make them miss something.”

He stepped to the door and saw them taking pictures and fingerprinting the place. “No problems. We’re all professionals here.”

“Sure you are. But every man in pants would be attracted to that woman,” Georgia said with a sardonic laugh.  “Hell, half the women in Atlanta would be attracted to her. She has that kind of --”

Power over a man, he almost said.

“Body that’s distracting,” Georgia finished.

He didn’t need a reminder about her body. “Go look up those accounts,” Cade said, irritated as he hung up.

One of the crime techs turned to him, his case in hand. “We’re finished.”

Cade gave a clipped nod. “Let me know if you find anything.”

They agreed and left, and he turned and stared at the bathroom door. What in the hell was Marci doing? There wasn’t a window in there, was there?

No, he would have remembered if there was.

Then the shower water kicked on, and he groaned as he imagined Marci naked beneath the spray of water.

*~*~*~*

Marci turned the hot water to full speed, hoping the sound would drown out her voice if she reached Paul.

She didn’t want mule-headed Muller to hear what she had to say to her fiancé.  She wanted to tell the lying, ratfink, snake off in private.

Stop it, Marci. You can’t convict him until you hear his side of the story. After all, she was innocent and she’d been locked up for the crime.

He could be, too.

First she punched her inbox and listened to the messages.

“Marci, this is Zelda French, please tell me that policeman was wrong. You and Paul were such a nice couple. You really did sell us a resort didn’t you?”

Marci winced then clicked the next.

“This is Edwina Phillips, I just talked to my attorney and he said my accounts have been cleaned out. It’s bad enough that resort is just a piece of desert land, but now I can’t pay for Mama’s back surgery, and if she doesn’t have it, she’s never gonna walk again.”

Marci gasped.

Had Paul gained access to the woman’s accounts and robbed her blind?

No…surely he wouldn’t have done that.

But the next fifty messages were variations of that call. Money stolen. Resort land not a resort, just desert. Dreams and hopes for their future disintegrated. They’d have to declare bankruptcy.

Sweet Merna Folkerton, at seventy-six, was going to have to move in with her ninety-three year old mother, and they would be living on social security. And Bitsy Rowenall had saved for new teeth, but now that would have to wait.

God…Marci scrolled through the rest, looking for Paul’s name, but there was nothing from him.

Furious, she punched his number, but the machine automatically rolled to voice mail. Either he wasn’t answering or he’d ditched his cell phone.

Probably so the cops couldn’t track him down.

Guilt mushroomed inside her as the sound of all the distraught voices from her message machine echoed in her head. Paul had destroyed these people’s lives.

And Kim’s future at the center – that could be ruined too.

It wasn’t just Paul. You helped him.

Bile rose to her throat as she remembered following him around like a little puppy dog. Smiling and patting her friends’ hands as he charmed them with the slide show.

She might not have known that he was selling them a crock, but she had by way of her own stupidity been his accomplice.

She was such a fool.  When would she ever learn that men couldn’t be trusted? At least not the ones who were attracted to her.

Tears blurred her eyes, but she blinked them back then looked down at the tattered dress. Hating it now, she peeled it off, then grabbed the scissors from the medicine cabinet and began to hack it up.

Whack, whack, whack. She cut and tore until it was nothing but a pile of lace and crinoline and satin.

Then she climbed into the shower and scrubbed her skin and hair until she felt raw. She had to get the stench of jail off of her.

But she’d never get the stench of what she’d done from her conscience.

She just hoped Paul called her and agreed to meet her, so she could rip him apart piece by piece like she had her wedding dress.

*~*~*~*

Cade tapped his foot and paced while he waited on Marci. She was his best lead now, and he had to watch her whether he liked it or not.

Of course, she wouldn’t like it.

He heard the phone ring from inside the bathroom, then the water kick off.  Forensics had already told him she’d received dozens of calls from irate, upset victims.

The tracer they’d put on her phone was recording all her calls, so he strode to the front window and looked outside while he listened.

“Paul,” Marci said in a tiny voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes, baby, I’m here.”

Marci cleared her throat. “What’s going on, Paul? Where are you?”

“I’m sorry I ran like that, babe, but I couldn’t go to jail.”

“I went to jail,” Marci said.

“I know, and I’m sorry, Marci, but you’re out now, so everything’s okay.”

“Okay?” Marci cried.  “The cops think I helped you rob all those sweet ladies. They’re watching me and hunting for you. How is that okay?”

“Don’t go all postal on me,” Paul said. “I’m trying to fix things.”

“How? Are you going to turn yourself in?” Marci asked.

“No, I can’t do that,” Paul said.

“Why not? If you’re innocent, you can hire a lawyer and –”

“Listen to me, Marci, the cops would never believe me.”

“They will when you prove that you didn’t steal from those people—”

“To do that, I have to lay low.  Someone is framing me, sweetheart, and I need to figure out who it is.”

“Framing you?  Who would do that?”

“I don’t know,” Paul said in a whiny voice.  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

A heartbeat passed. “Just talk to the police and explain. They can investigate.”

“I told you, they won’t believe me.” Paul hesitated. “But you do, don’t you, sugar?”

“I want to,” Marci’s voice cracked. “But that mean detective had pictures of the Desert Sand Resort, and it was nothing but a piece of desert land. He said you Photoshopped the other pictures to scam people into investing.”

“I didn’t Photoshop it,” Paul said.  “Don’t you see? Someone conned me. I thought I really was selling resort property.”

“Really?”

Cade rolled his eyes. Marci was not falling for this guy’s crock, was she?

“Yes, baby.  And I’m going to fix this.”

“Then you’re going to come back and tell them who set you up, and we’ll help those people get their money back.”

Marci sounded excited at the prospect.

“Sure, baby, I’ll do that.”

Cade balled his hands into fists. Pendergrass was lying through his teeth.

“But it’ll take time. Meanwhile, I have no proof, and the cops aren’t going to take my word for it.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Marci squeaked.

We? Was she still planning to marry this cheating, lying scumbag?

For God’s sake, she deserved better than Paul Pendergrass.

“I have to get away for a while and figure that out,” Paul said. “Maybe I can track down the guy who framed me. But I need your help, Precious.”

Precious?

Marci lowered her voice to a whisper. “What do you want me to do?”

A muscle ticked in Cade’s jaw.

“I need money.”

“What about all the money you made in those deals?” Marci asked.

“The cops are all over my accounts.” Someone murmured something in the background, then he coughed.

Cade frowned. Pendergrass was with someone. He slammed his fist against his thigh. Of course. The sleaze probably had another woman helping hide him out.

“Baby, I need cash,” Pendergrass said.

“I don’t have cash,” Marci said, her voice tinged with panic. “The detective said you cleaned out my account. That you didn’t pay my tuition, and that you didn’t buy the house in Buckhead.”

“Listen, Marci, I can’t go into all the details, but I have money to cover all of that. I just don’t have access to it right now.”

“So you’re just going to disappear and leave me here to handle the fallout? I have a cop in my living room right now,” Marci said. “And someone broke into my place and slashed the mattress.”

Pendergrass muttered a curse. “You haven’t told the cop anything, have you?”

“I don’t know anything to tell him!” Marci screeched.

“Just calm down, babe. Listen, I’m not leaving you. I just need you to get the cash I stashed away and then meet me, and we’ll leave town together till we can figure out how to clear my name.”

A tense silence passed, and Cade paced by the bathroom, his anxiety rising.  What was Marci going to do?

Run off with this Cretan?

*~*~*~*

Marci wrapped a towel around her, wishing like heck she’d brought a change of clothes or her robe into the bathroom.

“Marci?” Paul said in that low smooth voice that always crept under her skin.

Although now she wondered if that voice was a tad fake…

She tightened the towel around her boobs, tucking it tightly. “What?”

“You will do this for me, won’t you?” Paul murmured.  “Then we can be together again.”

Marci’s stomach lurched. He obviously didn’t care one iota about the humiliation she’d endured the last twenty-four hours. About their ruined wedding. The arrest. The phone calls from the seniors crying about losing their money. Nana Muller beating her with her purse.

Kim’s supporters backing out.

And Detective Muller’s condemning eyes.

She towel-dried her hair.  “Of course I’ll do whatever you say, Paul.” She intentionally added a lusty tone to her voice.  “Just tell me how to access the cash and where to meet you.”

“I knew I could count on you.” His tone brightened a notch. “There’s a locker at the gym that has a duffel bag in it. Pick it up, then call me and I’ll tell you where to come.”

“What’s the locker number?” Marci asked. “Don’t I need a key?”

“The number’s on the key. It’s in your medicine chest underneath your diaphragm.”

Sweat beaded on Marci’s neck. Wasn’t it sacrilege to hide the key for his runaway cash with her birth control?

Her blood began to boil. People might think she was stupid. But she wasn’t. “All right,” she sang. “I’ll get it for you, sugarcakes.”

“Good. And Marci?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Don’t tell anyone what you’re doing or that you’re meeting me. Not even your sister, you understand?”

Marci heaved a breath of frustration but hoped it sounded sexy when she spoke. “Yes, Paul, I understand everything now.”

“Good. Now wait until tonight when it’s dark. Just in case the cops or press are watching.”

“Right.” Because she might lead them to him. And he wasn’t about to turn himself in or stand up for her.

Instead the dirty rotten scoundrel wanted her to bring him his getaway cash so he could hightail it out of town.

*~*~*~*

“Do you have eyes on Marci?”

“I’m outside her apartment now.” And he’d been watching her in the bathroom. Man, she had a rack on her. But he didn’t think the boss would like hearing that.

“What about Pendergrass?”

“He just called her. She’s going to pick up a duffel bag with some cash in it and take it to him later.”

An obscenity echoed over the line. “Where’s she meeting him?”

“I don’t know yet. He told her to call him when she had the cash, and they’d set up a meeting place.”

Another curse.  “All right. Stay with her.”

“Don’t worry.”  This was the best job he’d ever had. The perks of watching that sexy broad undress had been more than worth any risk.

“Don’t lose her,” his boss said. “And let me know where the meet place is, and I’ll be there.”

“I can handle it,” he said.

“No way,” his boss snapped. “This is my baby.  I want to take care of the situation myself.”

He simply shrugged and muttered that he would. He didn’t ask questions.

He didn’t want to know the details of what his boss had planned.

But a twinge of sympathy registered for Marci Turner.

Still, what his boss did with her was his business.

He’d learned a long time ago to do what he was told and not ask questions.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Cade’s pulse jumped as Marci emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her voluptuous body.

His sex stirred, his blood heating.  Her golden skin glistened with moisture. The towel slipped beneath the weight of her breasts, giving him a glimpse of her tender sweet flesh.

And the breasts he desperately wanted to touch.

And kiss.

And draw into his mouth.

She would be so delicious.

Marci folded her arms in front of her, her eyes piercing him.  “You can go now, Detective.”

He inhaled to calm himself. And to keep from reaching for her.

But that conversation with Pendergrass echoed in his head.

“I thought I’d help you clean up this mess,” he said, searching for a way to stay inside her apartment.

He had to convince her that Pendergrass was only using her.

It was the only way she could save herself.

Marci licked her lips, that nervous gesture he’d seen her doing before. Only now all her lipstick and she was make-up free, she looked young and vulnerable.

And more beautiful than any woman had a right to be.

Shit. He was in deep trouble.

“Thank you, Detective Muller, but I can take care of this mess myself.”

He mentally searched for an excuse to stay.  “Someone broke in, Marci,” he said, intentionally using her first name to soften her. Hell, if he had to use his own charm to reach her, he would.  “I thought you might not feel comfortable being here alone.”

Marci twisted a lock of hair around her finger and gestured toward the mess.  “Whoever did this either found what they were looking for or they didn’t, so they’re gone.”

She was right. But that didn’t mean they might not return now they knew she was home. Try to extract some answers from her in person.

“If the intruder was the same person who shot at you, he could be dangerous.”

Fear flickered in her eyes for a second, then she masked it and shook out her damp hair with her fingers. “Thank you for your concern, but I have locks on the doors, and I can take care of myself.”

He gestured toward the front door where the lock had been picked. “Obviously locks didn’t keep the intruder out before.”

“I’ll install better ones,” Marci said, her voice irritated. “Now, please go so I can get dressed and clean up this catastrophe.”

“You’ll need help moving that mattress,” he said.

“I’ll order a new one on-line and have them take the old one when they deliver it.”

Cade shifted from foot to foot. His hand itched to touch her cheek, rub her shoulder and massage away the stress tightening her body.

“I’m sorry, Marci, but your credit cards have been frozen until you’re cleared.”

Marci’s face fell, defeat echoing in her tired sigh.

“Then I’ll flip it over,” she said quickly recovering.

“At least let me help you do that,” he said.

She hesitated a moment, then threw up her hands. “All right, help me flip it and then get out.”

He took a step closer, his gaze resting on the top of her towel where it was knotted above her breasts.  “Don’t you think you should put some clothes on first?”

The moment he said it, he regretted it. He’d love to see that towel hit the floor, get a peek at the curves beneath it.

Marci shivered.  “Of course.”

But she didn’t move, and a sliver of sexual tension rippled between them.

“Marci, I really want to help you,” he murmured.  “Let me.”

She gestured toward the bed. “Then grab that end of the mattress.”

“I’m not talking about the damn mattress.” The temptation to touch her was too much. He tucked a strand of that wild hair behind her ear. Her lips parted, her breath whispering out.

“Detective?”

Desire bolted through him, making him yearn to pull her in his arms. Her eyes flickered with the same kind of heat that burned within him. She licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her pouty mouth, and he couldn’t resist. He traced a finger along her jaw, angling her face up as he imagined closing his mouth over hers. One taste.

That was all he needed.

Only one taste might not be enough. And that would be dangerous.

Still she looked so vulnerable, sweet even.

He remembered how Georgia had badgered her about her sister. He’d always come in second behind his own big brother, especially in his father’s eyes.

Had those insecurities driven Marci into Pendergrass’s arms?

Even if they had, had she known about his scheme?

Her earlier phone conversation taunted him.

No…he didn’t think she had.

“If you know anything about Pendergrass,” he murmured. “If you know where he is, tell me, Marci.”

For a brief moment, she almost looked as if she was going to talk. That she trusted him.

Then she shook her head.   “You think I’m stupid just like that woman detective said, and now you’re trying to seduce me into a confession.”

Cade’s jaw hardened at her accusation. But hurt flared in her eyes making him feel like a jerk.

He hadn’t been trying to seduce her for a confession.

Had he?

No, dammit, he’d simply lost his head when he’d seen her in that towel.

But he couldn’t admit that.

And he couldn’t stay here and not want her.

So he backed toward the door. “Think what you want, Marci. But my offer stands. If you’re in trouble, I’ll do whatever I can to clear you.”

Marci released a shaky sigh.  “You’ve done enough, Detective Muller. Now please leave me alone.”

He rolled his hands into balls.

Was she rushing him out so she could sneak out to meet Pendergrass?

The idea stirred irrational anger and …jealousy.  No, he wasn’t jealous. He just didn’t know why she’d help that asshole. Pendergrass had been the one to use her, not him.

But he couldn’t tip his hand by revealing that he’d overheard her conversation. So he removed his card and dropped it on the coffee table. “If you change your mind, call me.”

She simply stared at the card, then him, and watched as he walked out the door.  Irritation knotted his shoulders as he hiked down the cheap metal steps and walked to his car.

He’d given her a chance to come clean, but she’d dismissed him. Maybe she wasn’t innocent after all.

He turned and studied her front door and the layout of her building.

He had to focus on his job.

If the creep who’d broken in returned tonight, he’d be watching and nab his ass.

And if Marci went after that money so she could run with Pendergrass. he’d slap them both in jail where they belonged.

*~*~*~*

Marci’s head swirled with confusion as she slammed the door. She had almost kissed Detective Muller.

Or had he almost kissed her?

Good heavens.  What was wrong with her? He’d looked at her with those dark passion-glazed eyes and she’d felt hypnotized.

How could she dislike him so much and be attracted to him at the same time?

Well, maybe she didn’t exactly dislike him…

He had only been doing his job.

No…he was a hardass who’d humiliated her in front of hundreds of people, interrogated her, thrown her past in her face, and left her to rot all night in that cell for a crime she hadn’t committed.

Worse, he thought she was stupid. His partner had pointed that out over and over.

He wasn’t attracted to you, Marci. He only wanted you to spill your guts about Paul.

Paul.

What was she going to do about him?

She would find that money, take it to him and force him to look her in the eyes. Then she’d see for sure if he was telling her the truth, if he’d been set up.

Or if he’d used her to help him run his con game.

Her stomach lurched at the thought, guilt suffusing her.

Sunshine peeked through the window, and she grimaced. It was hours until dark.

She glanced around the apartment, sickened at the sight. Yesterday her life had looked like a rose garden, but today it looked like she’d slipped in shit and was buried in it.

She turned on the television for background noise while she straightened the den, but when another clip showing her arrest was broadcast (the bridal gown had definitely caught the attention of the media), she sank onto the couch in despair.

Apparently she was a celebrity now. The story had gone nationwide. Oh, yes, and viral on the Internet. The clip on YouTube had several million hits already and was the number one story in China.

Instead of The Runaway Bride though, they’d dubbed her story The Runaway Groom.

A series of short interviews at the reception she’d missed followed on screen --  groups of seniors crying and complaining about their loss. Others were toasting the cops for arresting her.

Apparently the pissed off guests had decided to stay and enjoy the free food and drinks. They’d even managed to scrape enough of the ruined wedding cake together to hand out slices.

She sighed wearily. It had taken her hours to pick out that menu, to decide on the chicken skewers and shrimp toast, to choose between the buttercream frosting or the Kahlua chocolate cake…

A photograph of the mug shot she’d had taken when she’d stolen those panties years ago flashed next, then her new mug shot appeared beside it.

“It seems Miss Turner started her criminal path early on when she was caught stealing underwear at Victoria’s Secret,” the reporter said with a chuckle.

Marci fumed. Had Detective Muller given them that shot?

“Once a thief, always a thief,” the reporter continued.

Marci choked back a scream.

It was bad enough she’d been dragged from her wedding in handcuffs then falsely arrested. But now everyone in Atlanta and across the world knew about her juvy record.

Stupid dickhead reporter.  He didn’t even have the decency to show her good side.

She’d told that cop that her left side made her look like she had a double chin.

Not that anyone would care what she looked like if she ended up doing hard time in the pokey.

But a girl did have to have a little pride…

*~*~*~*

Cade spent the day in his car watching Marci’s apartment.  He’d parked by some bushes near the corner so he was half hidden, but had a good vantage point of the staircase.

Knowing she didn’t plan to make a move until dark gave him enough time for bathroom and food breaks, but he didn’t stray too far for fear she’d change her mind and slip out early.

But her little VW bug was still sitting in the parking lot when he returned from grabbing a burger from the take-out joint a block over.

His phone buzzed and he punched connect.  “Hey, Georgia. You have anything new on the shooter?”

Georgia released a disgusted moan.  “I’m afraid not. So far, everyone I’ve interviewed had no idea they’d been duped until we busted the wedding.”

Cade muttered a sound of frustration. “Then it has to be someone he conned in another state before. Maybe they got wind of his new identity and con game.”

“It’s possible. Any one of them could have hired a PI to track him down.”

Cade wadded up the empty burger wrapper and stuffed it into the trash bag. “Keep digging. Did tech ever locate where Pendergrass was calling from?”

“No. He’s a pro, used another burner phone. He probably picked up a handful so he could keep changing them across states.”

Cade had expected the bastard to already be out of Georgia, but the greedy prick was waiting around until he finagled a way to pick up his cash.

And Marci was helping him, which would make her an accomplice.

Unless he persuaded her to take a deal and turn against Pendergrass.

“What’s going on there?” Georgia asked.

The afternoon sun had sunk behind the building, dusk settling in, painting the building in shadows. “Nothing yet. But I have a feeling Marci will be on the move soon.”

“Good. When we lock them up, maybe he’ll tell us where he’s hidden the money, and we can find justice for some of the people they hurt.”

Cade glanced up at Marci’s window and thought he saw her looking out the window, so he slid lower in his seat.  “I’m beginning to think she was just as much a victim as the others.”

“Don’t think with your dick, Muller.”

Irritation nagged at him. “I’m not. I’m trying to find the truth.” The memory of Marci’s wounded eyes flashed back.  “You know you were pretty hard on her, Georgia.”

“I was just doing my job, which you need to do, too.”

“I am,” he snapped.  “But you seem to have something personal against Marci.”

“I hate dumb girls who skate by on their pretty looks,” Georgia muttered.

“Just because she didn’t excel in school like her sister doesn’t mean she’s dumb,” Cade said.

“Oh, my god,” Georgia said. “You are getting soft, Muller.”

“No, I’m not.”  It was just that he’d heard the same thing from his old man all his life. Mitch was always smarter, more athletic, more driven…

Marci’s front door opened, and Cade gripped the steering wheel.  “I have to go. She’s headed to her car.”

“Good, now play it smart, Muller.”

Cade snapped the phone off with a curse. He was not thinking with his dick.

He was just trying to be objective.

Marci clutched the gym bag to her, scanning the parking lot as she hurried to her car.  He grimaced. She’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt and wore sunglasses as if she was trying to disguise herself.

Jesus. He wanted to defend her, but her actions made her look guilty as hell.

She nearly stumbled down the steps, and he literally leaned forward as if to catch her.  “Take off the sunglasses before you kill yourself,” he muttered.

She caught herself just before she fell, her shoulders hunched as she dashed to her car.  Still, that bright red bug stuck out as she cranked the engine and peeled from the parking lot.

He followed at a safe distance, weaving through traffic as she maneuvered the busy intersection. Two streets over, she parked at the gym and climbed out.

The way she tilted her sunglasses down to scan the parking lot and street  for anything suspicious reminded him of a cheesy movie.

But the fact that someone had shot at her and Pendergrass sobered him quickly. This case was not funny.

Only Marci’s clandestine behavior looked so rooky-like that it was obvious she wasn’t a pro. Not like her fiancé who had three different aliases, had left behind a string of women he’d abandoned and countless seniors without their retirements.

Cade fiddled with the door handle.  He itched to go inside, but reminded himself that this wasn’t the meeting place. Marci was simply picking up Pendergrass’s cash here.

She still had to meet him for the drop.

He retrieved his camera from the console and snapped a photo of her as she rushed inside the gym. Georgia was wrong. He wasn’t thinking with his dick.

He was committed to the job.

But for the first time in his life, he hoped his suspect was innocent instead of guilty.

*~*~*~*

Marci kept looking over her shoulder as she slipped into the gym. She had sensed all day that someone was watching her. As if eyes were following her everywhere she went.

What if they were? The cops might be staking her out. And the man who’d shot at her…what if he came after her to get to Paul?

A nervous laugh bubbled in her throat, but she swallowed it back. Paul had said the money was in his locker. But how was she going to sneak into the men’s locker room without being noticed?

With the press flashing her picture all over the news, someone might spot her.

She tugged the ball cap down, made sure her hair was firmly tucked in place beneath it, then adopted a male swagger. Thankfully the gym was nearly empty, but when she stepped inside the locker room a young man, probably early twenties, was stripping out of his sweaty t-shirt and shorts.

She tried not to gape, but she was a hot-blooded female, and he had a nice body, especially his butt. He noticed her though and shot her an evil look.

A nervous laugh bubbled in her throat as she realized he thought she was gay.

She started to explain, then caught herself. What difference did it make? She was here to retrieve Paul’s money and get the hell out.

Quickly jerking her gaze back to the row of lockers, she checked the numbers. An older man who had to weigh at least three-hundred pounds with Dumbo ears lumbered in and started undressing.

She angled herself away with a shiver. Now that man desperately needed the gym.

Although an image of Detective Muller flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like naked. He had such nice olive skin, and big arms. His legs were probably muscular, too, and she could almost feel her fingers raking across that black hair that would dust his torso.

The door whacked open again and two more men entered, then out of the corner of her eye she saw the heavyset man’s pants drop to the floor. Beefy fleshy rolls fell everywhere. She nearly groaned in disgust.

But reality interceded.  What if one of these men had been the shooter? What if they’d followed her here and planned to stick a gun to her throat?

She had to hurry.

Her hand shook as she jammed the key into the lock. She angled herself so the men couldn’t see inside the locker as she spotted the small duffel bag of cash and grabbed it.

Her phone began to buzz, and she glanced down and read the text from Paul.

Meet me at Varsity.

Marci almost grinned at his choice. She loved the fast food place which was literally a landmark to natives, but Paul had been too snobbish to eat there.  No wonder he’d chosen it as their meeting place. No one who knew him would think to look for him there.

Maybe she should have told the detective.

No…she understood what it was like to be falsely accused of something she hadn’t done. She had to find out the truth herself.

Then she’d decide whether to go to the police or call a lawyer before she wound up back in the pokey.

*~*~*~*

Cade drummed his fingers on his thigh as he waited on Marci.  Ten minutes after she entered the gym, she rushed out, her head ducked as she gripped the duffel bag in her hand. She looked nervous, and constantly checked over her shoulder and glanced around the street and parking lot as she tossed the bag in the back seat and jumped in the car.

He gritted his teeth. It certainly appeared as if she was running away with Pendergrass.

Clenching the steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip, he punched the gas and wove into traffic to follow her.  A few quick turns and they ended up at the Varsity. He couldn’t help but wonder if Pendergrass had chosen the meeting spot or if Marci had.

The parking lot was almost full, the drive-up humming with traffic. His mouth watered for a chilidog and a frosted orange, and he wished he was here for pleasure, not on a stakeout.

Checking his gun to make sure it was in place, he tugged his jacket around him and followed Marci.  She darted inside the restaurant, weaving between the rows and lines of people waiting to order their food.

The scent of fried onion rings and French Fries wafted around him, the hum of voices and kids’ laughter filling the space. A mother with two toddlers tried to put Varsity hats on the boys while the teenager across the aisle wolfed down a chilidog as he texted vigorously. A homeless woman parked her buggy outside and situated herself by a pole begging for money.

Marci glanced back once, and he ducked behind a family, then watched as she checked her phone again.

Dammit. Pendergrass must be texting her directions.

She looked irritated as she passed the ladies’ room, then she walked to the other exit and headed outside.

He kept at a distance until he reached the door, then he saw her heading toward a black Explorer parked in a take-out spot.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and people in the parking lot scattered, shouting and ducking for cover. He gripped his gun and raced outside just as another shot pinged off the Explorer.

Marci screamed, and he vaulted forward, grabbed her and hauled her behind another car as the Explorer screeched away.

CHAPTER NINE

Marci stumbled forward, grappling for control as Detective Muller slammed into her. A second later, she realized a gunshot had nearly taken off her head.

She scanned the area for Paul, but he was racing away again.

Her knees hit the pavement as the detective shoved her behind an SUV. Other cars fired up and careened from the parking lot, and the wait staff ran inside for cover. The couple in the SUV must have dove to the floor, because she didn’t see them.

Detective Muller gripped her arms. “Stay put!”

Marci was shaking too badly to do anything else.  “Where are you going?”

“To see where that shot came from.” He pushed her down further, then peered around the SUV.

A dark sedan screeched into traffic, rubber peeling as it darted in front of a Marta bus and cut across four lanes of traffic.

“Dammit, that’s probably him.” He yanked his phone from his belt and called it in. “Put an APB on a black sedan, tinted windows, custom hubcaps.” His breathing rasped out. “No, I didn’t get the license plate.” He kicked the concrete with a curse.

“Pendergrass was driving a silver Lexus, headed south. Get units downtown on I-85 now!”

He heaved another breath, then two security guards rushed toward him, their faces shaken.  “What’s going on?”

The detective flashed his badge, and gestured toward Marci. Marci’s heart drummed so hard she thought it was going to beat out of her chest. The couple from the SUV slowly eased up from the floor where they’d been hiding.

“Is it safe now?” the teenager asked through the open window.

“Yes,” Detective Muller said. He motioned to Marci to indicate that it was safe.

She stood slowly, her mind racing as she walked over to him. The spectators and staff, began congregating like rubberneckers, the guards corralling the crowd under control.

Another police car screeched up, and the female cop who’d been so rough on her during the interrogation jumped out and hurried toward them.  “Did you see the shooter, Muller?”

Detective Muller shook his head. “No, the windows were tinted. Did you see his face, Marci?”

“No.” Marci frowned, upset at Paul and the situation.

Just how had the detective gotten there so quickly?

He glanced at her then nodded toward his partner. “Georgia, take the guards and question everyone here. Maybe someone saw the shooter’s face and we can ID him. I’m going to drive Miss Turner home.”

Marci stiffened, dreading the inquisition.

*~*~*~*

Cade wanted to stay and question the crew in the parking lot himself. Hell, he wanted to get in the car and chase Pendergrass and that shooter.

But he was only one man and he couldn’t do it all.

Marci needed protection.

She was definitely in danger.

And that trumped even finding Pendergrass.

That thought of her being hurt sent a frisson of fear through him that he had no business feeling. Dammit, she looked fragile and vulnerable and could have been killed.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her and put Pendergrass away for getting her involved in this mess.

But the fear he’d seen in her eyes moments ago quickly morphed into anger.  Was she angry at Pendergrass for deserting her again, or angry at him for doing his job?

Hell, she should be thanking him. He’d saved her life while Pendergrass did what he did best --  left someone else holding the bag.

He shrugged off her animosity. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him. She was the key to Pendergrass, and he needed to get her in the clear just in case the shooter had a partner. “Come on, Marci.”

She dug in her heels and clutched that duffel bag to her like it was a security blanket. “No thanks. I have my car.”

A curse word floated to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back.  He should confiscate that duffel bag and turn it in for evidence.  Instead he forced himself to remain calm. They might need the money later to set a trap.

“I’ll have a uniform drop off your VW.”

“No,” Marci said yanking her arm from his grip.  “I refuse to be stuck without transportation.”

“Marci, listen to me,” Cade said between clenched teeth. “I could haul your pretty little ass in right now for aiding and abetting a felon.”

She gaped at him. “But I wasn’t –“

“You most certainly were, sweetheart.” He gave a pointed look at the duffel bag. “You’re holding stolen cash that you were handing off to a wanted man on the run from the law.”

Her face paled, but he had to drive home his point. “For all we know that shooter may come back or have a partner watching us now. Either he wants Pendergrass, that money, or both, and he’s obviously willing to kill to get it.”

The air seemed to whoosh from her lungs, the fight leaving her.

He led her to his car and rushed her into the passenger seat.

Marci folded her arms as Georgia approached, and he closed the car door so she wouldn’t hear his conversation.

“What did she say?” Georgia asked.

Cade hedged.  “Nothing, yet, but she’s going to talk when I get her home.” He noted the guards still working the crowd. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Nothing helpful but we’ll keep trying.” She gestured at Marci. “You should arrest her again,” Georgia said tightly.

“She’s more valuable to us out of jail,” he said in a low voice.  “Pendergrass wants her help, wants money he left behind. He didn’t get it today so he’ll call back.”

Georgia cut her eyes toward Marci, then  pursed her lips.  “That had better be the reason you’re not taking her in. You know she’s cunning and clever and will use that body to get her way.”

Her accusation made him ball his hands into fists. The insane urge to defend Marci’s honor traipsed through him.

The trouble was that he wanted his way with Marci.

But he couldn’t succumb to temptation. “Don’t worry about me. Just do what you can to track down Pendergrass’s car and the shooter’s. I’ll convince Marci to help us set a trap for her fiancé.”

Georgia gave him a lopsided grin. “Now you’re talking. You charm her into doing what you want, not the other way around.”

Cade gave a clipped nod, although as he climbed in the driver’s seat and Marci scorched him with her eyes, he doubted he’d be charming the woman into anything.

*~*~*~*

Marci wanted to hate the detective, but how could she hate someone who had saved her life? For goodness sake, he had put himself in the line of fire to protect her.

If he wasn’t trying to convict her of a crime she hadn’t committed, she might actually like the man.

No, no, no, that’s too dangerous. He’s just using you like other men have.

Like Paul had.

Her stomach lurched.

She wanted to believe that Paul really was innocent, but why would someone be shooting at her, at him, if he was?

And if he really loved her, would he have run away when the man shot at her, or would he have thrown himself in front of her to protect her like the mule-headed man next to her had?

Detective Muller’s gaze met hers, and she shivered.

Lord, he had intense eyes. Sexy eyes that a woman could drown in.

Then he dragged his gaze back to the mad scene in the Varsity parking lot, started the engine and pulled into traffic, and she latched onto her anger.

She could not fantasize about how sexy the cop was, or how much she wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her when he still thought she was either a criminal -- or a fool.

Antsy, she twisted her fingers around the strap of the duffel bag. He cut his eyes toward the bag then back at her.

“You know giving that stolen money to Pendergrass is enough for the judge to revoke your bail and send you back to jail until the trial.”

A shudder coursed up her spine. “What if I had another agenda?”

“Like what? You were going to bring him in yourself?”

“Maybe I wanted the truth.”

His jaw clenched. “Now you have it. He left you – again.”

Did he have to keep rubbing her face in it? Her mind ticked over what he’d said, and her anger resurfaced. “How did you know there was money in the bag?”

He released a weary sigh, but he didn’t answer. He simply maneuvered the turns to her apartment complex, the tension mounting between them.

But the details of the past hour taunted her. She’d sensed someone was following her when she’d gone to the gym. And he’d been at the Varsity when the shots had rung out.

Which couldn’t have been a coincidence.

“You were following me, weren’t you?” Which meant she definitely looked even more guilty in his eyes now.

“What do you think?” he asked, his own voice tinged with anger.

Marci crossed her arms, fuming.  “It’s not how it appears.”

He arched a brow, disgust in his eyes. “Isn’t it? Your boyfriend calls and you run to get his money and take it to him.”

Marci’s heart pounded. “How did you know he called me?”

Guilt registered in his expression for a second before he masked it.

“Good grief, you tapped my phone, didn’t you?”

He parked the car, then turned toward her, his hands knotting and unknotting on the console between them. The fact that he didn’t deny her accusation confirmed she was right.

“I can’t believe it. You listened to my phone calls?”

“You’re a suspect in an ongoing investigation, Marci. Besides, it’s not like you’ve exactly been cooperating.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Marci cried.  “Isn’t it against the law to bug someone’s phone?”

“You want to talk to me about the law?” He pushed his face into hers. “If you’re innocent, then why didn’t you tell me about the phone call?”

Marci had to get out of the car before she hit him. Or threw up on him. Or both.

She reached for the door handle, but he caught her arm. “Why, Marci? I’m not the enemy. Why didn’t you tell me so I could help you?”

She fidgeted. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think his voice sounded …hurt.

But that was ridiculous.

“You say you’re not the enemy, but you’re trying to put me back in jail,” she answered.

He shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead.

Crap. She wanted to touch it and push it back. Run her hand over the beard stubble grazing his jaw. See if those lips tasted as sinful as they looked.

“That’s not true,” he said softly.  “Finding Pendergrass is my job.”

“Your job means spying on me?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d trust me.”

“Trust you?”  She yanked free of his touch and emitted a sarcastic laugh. “Maybe I wanted to find out myself if Paul was telling the truth,” she shot back.  “Then again, maybe you and that female cop are right. I’m just some stupid bimbo that was so desperate for attention that I fell for a con artist and did whatever he asked me to do.”

Shaking with hurt and anger, she shoved open the door, jumped out and ran across the parking lot. Footsteps pounded the pavement behind her. Drat! She’d forgotten that duffel bag full of money.

Real smart. She’d just handed him the evidence to hang her.

But she didn’t care right now. All she wanted to do was get inside her apartment away from him.

Because Lord help her, she wanted to trust him.

But how could she trust a man again when all they did was use her?

*~*~*~*

Cade raced after Marci, hauling the duffel bag with him. She clattered up the steps, oblivious to the fact that the shooter might know where she lived and be waiting to ambush her.

Blasted woman. She was driving him crazy.

Just as he made it to the top of the landing, she slammed the door shut. He heard her fiddling with the lock, but he didn’t give her time to lock it.

He busted in and threw the duffel bag on the floor. She squealed and pushed at him, but he grabbed her and forced her to look at him. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Marci.”

“That’s what your girlfriend said,” Marci cried.

He frowned, then realized she meant Georgia. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my partner. Interrogating people is part of the job.”

“Your job,” Marci spat out. “Your job is to harass people and make them feel like idiots and spy on them. What else did you do besides tap my phone? Did you put cameras in my house?” She pinned him with a look of outrage. “You did, didn’t you?” She jammed her hands on her hips. “Did you get your jollies watching me in the shower?”

“Stop it,” he said, his heart hammering.  He couldn’t stand the hurt in her eyes any longer. “We did not install cameras in your apartment and I didn’t watch you in the bathroom, much less the shower.”

Although he’d like to see her in the shower. Hell, he’d like to get in the shower with her.

But she was a suspect.

“But you think I’m just some dumb idiot, that I helped Paul  -- ”

“No.” He pressed a finger to her lip to silence her. “Listen to me, Marci, I’m sorry for the things Georgia said, that she was rough on you. I’m sorry I was tough on you, too.” His damn voice cracked, his gaze latching onto her lips.

That trembling chin. She was trying hard not to cry now.

Her show of bravado twisted his insides like nothing had.

“I really do want to help you,” he said, lowering his voice.

A small sob caught in her throat.

God help him. She looked so sweet, so desperate for him to believe her, that he did.

And he couldn’t resist her any longer.

He pulled her up against him, then closed his mouth over hers and kissed her.

*~*~*~*

He studied the camera with a smirk. Well, well, well, that cop Muller was busy working this case.  He’d almost taken a bullet for the prissy little Marci Turner but now he was about to get in her pants.

His phone jangled and he chewed the inside of his  cheek. His boss wouldn’t be happy Pendergrass had escaped again.

But he had to answer him sometime, so he punched connect.

“God dammit, that shooting at the Varsity is all over the news. You moron, you almost shot Marci Turner.”

He frowned. “So, you asked me to watch her to get to Pendergrass, and the broad had a bag of cash in her hands.”

“I don’t care,” he barked.  “I want Pendergrass, but I don’t want murder charges on my head.”

“I wasn’t going to kill her,” he said, “I was just trying to scare her into dropping the bag. Then I was going to go after Pendergrass when he snatched it.”

“Listen to me. I do want Pendergrass, but I do not want Marci hurt. Understand?”

He shifted, irritation making him grind his teeth.  “Yes, sir.”

A tense pause. “Now where are you?”

“Watching her apartment now?”

“She’s safe?”

He chuckled. “Safe in the arms of that cop.”

Another tense silence.  “What?”

He made a harrumph sound. “They’re tongue dancing right now.”

A curse rumbled over the line.

“You want me to take care of the cop?” he asked.

“No,” his boss said.  “I will. Find Pendergrass first. Then I’ll deal with Marci and Detective Muller.”

CHAPTER TEN

Marci’s pulse fluttered as she parted her lips for Cade’s invasion.

And invade her he did.

His tongue traced her lower lip, then he deepened the kiss, so deep her legs buckled at the intense desire rushing to her head. He threaded one hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and trailed the other one down to pull her body closer to his.

“Detective – ”

“It’s Cade,” he whispered against her ear. “Call me Cade.”

“Cade, what are we doing?”

“Kissing,” he said then cupped her breast in his hand.

Hot need flared inside her at his husky voice, and she clung to his arms, tasting him just as he tasted her.  His breath brushed her cheek as he left her mouth to trace kisses along her ear and jaw, then down her neckline. She curled into him, her hands finding a sensual journey over his chorded muscled back, one dropping to cup his butt.

He was all hard planes and muscles, all masculine heat and fire in one big man. She wanted more.

She wanted all of him.

She had never felt this raging rush of passion when Paul had kissed her.

The realization both frightened her and made her claw at Cade’s shirt. She wanted to see his bare chest, feel those muscles bunch as she raked her tongue over his skin.

Then lower…

He moaned and suckled at her neck, then ripped her sweatshirt over her head.

She had on too many clothes and so did he.

She shoved at his jacket and it hit the floor, but his gun bulged between them.

So did his thick sex which was wedged between her thighs.

She wanted the pleasure he could give her. Wanted him lying naked with her between the sheets, kissing her and stroking her and making her come alive.

She wanted him inside her.

He seemed to want the same thing, because his frenzied movements continued and he tore at her blouse, then ripped the buttons off. Cool air brushed her breasts and her nipples puckered as his mouth raked her skin.

She was burning up, on fire, and he was the only one with the power to extinguish the flame.

Except he was stoking the flames now, the need growing stronger as he licked her neck, then pushed her bra aside and sucked one nipple into her mouth.

She groaned and tugged at his shirt, but his gun nudged her belly, and he tensed. Then her phone jangled, the sound like a bomb ticking in the room as it trilled.

Slowly he pulled back, but he didn’t release her. Instead his stormy gaze met hers. The passion and hunger she saw sent a shiver of feminine want through her.

But the phone trilled again, and he pulled her shirt together. Regret warred with need as his husky breathing echoed in the tension between them.  “You should answer that.”

Disappointment flooded her. He was back to being the cop, not Cade the man who’d turned her inside out with his kisses.

*~*~*~*

Battling frustration, Cade stood ramrod still as Marci hugged her arms around herself.

Cade glanced at the number on the caller ID screen, then her, and mouthed for her to answer it.

Knowing she was half dressed and he had almost had her naked and in bed with him sent a dozen emotions pummeling him.

He wanted her with every fiber of his being.

But he had to do his job.

Nail Pendergrass.

Marci picked up the phone, her shoulders rolling back with tension.

At least this time she knew he was listening.

He squeezed her arm to offer support, but she twisted away, so he began buttoning his shirt, disappointment suffusing him.

Jesus. He had to start thinking with his head not his hormones.

Although that was hard to do when Marci was pure sin in a decadently wrapped package.

“Marci?” he whispered.

She sighed and punched connect, putting them on speakerphone.

“Why did you bring the cops?” Pendergrass screeched. “I trusted you, babe, but you brought them right to me.”

“I did no such thing,” Marci said, injecting a calm to her voice that belied the fury flaring in her eyes. “I had no idea they were following me.”

Which was true and seemed to infuriate her all over as she remembered it.

A tense pause.  “I want to believe you  --“

“I should be the angry one,” Marci said, cutting him off. “You’re the one who left me literally holding the bag twice. For heaven’s sake, someone was shooting at me!”

“Listen, Marci, I’m real sorry about that – ”

“I don’t want you flimsy apology,” Marci cried. “I want to know what in heck is going on. Who tried to kill me?”

“I…don’t know,” Pendergrass mumbled in a puppy dog voice.

Marci made a disgusted sound. “I’m not buying that, Paul.” She dried her cheek where a tear fell. “I think you know exactly who’s after you.  You don’t care about me. You wanted me to bring you this money so you could disappear.”

“That’s not true,” Paul said in a whiny voice. “I want you with me, babe.”

Marci shoved hair from her eyes, avoiding Cade’s gaze.

He balled his hands into fists. The lovemaking part of the night was definitely over.

“You really expect me to leave my sister and go on the run for the rest of my life?”

Another pause, Paul’s breathing rattling between them. “I just want us to be together.”

“Then come back and clear yourself,” Marci said firmly.

A second passed, the air teeming with unanswered questions. “I can’t do that, babe,” Paul said. “The police have too much evidence against me.”

“Because you’re guilty?”

“No, because some cop I crossed a while back has it in for me. He’s been chasing me for years, trying to set me up. I even had to take a fake name to shake him.”

Cade shook his head in disgust. What a crock! Surely Marci wouldn’t believe him…

Marci slumped down on the sofa and held her head in her hands. Cade bit back a curse and rubbed her shoulder again. This time she leaned into him for just a moment.

“What do you want me to do?” Marci asked in a haunted whisper.

Paul exhaled a sound of relief.  “Thanks, babe. Listen though, we have to be more careful this time. Do you know if the cops are watching you now?”

Marci closed her eyes, her expression tormented.   “I don’t think so. That detective who arrested me dropped me off after the shoot out.”

Paul seemed unaffected by her comment. “What about outside? Look and see if you spot any cars that have been there for a while.”

“It’s a freaking parking lot,” Marci said irritably.   “It’s full of cars.”

“Just look for someone suspicious lurking around. Someone sitting in their car, maybe a van that could have surveillance equipment.”

Pendergrass had definitely done this before.

Marci rose, went to the window and looked out. “I don’t see anyone,” she said, then shot Cade a mutinous look.

“Good. Still, wait till midnight anyway. Then sneak outside and drive down to the river. You know along the Chattahoochee where we used to make out.”

Make out? The guy sounded like a horny teenager.

“Yes, how could I forget?” Marci said.

“Meet me there. And uh… don’t forget the money.”

“Don’t worry, Paul,” Marci said. “I know what you want.”

“Thanks, babe, you are the best.  I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

Marci disconnected, her face filled with hurt and defeat.

“You did the right thing, Marci,” Cade said softly.

She lifted her eyes to him. They looked haunted. “The right thing? I just lied to someone I was supposed to care about. And I’m setting him up to go to jail.”

Cade had zilch sympathy for the con man. “Because that’s where he deserves to go for cheating all those innocent people.” He reached for her, but she jerked away and paced across the room.

“Maybe you’re used to lying to people, Cade, it’s part of your job. Heck maybe it’s part of who you are.” Her voice broke as she pressed her fist over her chest. “But it’s not part of who I am. I may be naïve and that’s a crime because I let Paul use me to cheat and steal from others, but I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone before.”

“Marci – ”

“No, don’t say anything,” she said, wiping at a tear. “You knew I was vulnerable and scared, and you kissed me and made me think you wanted me so I’d do what you asked. But I’m not foolish enough to think that you actually care so don’t bother pretending.”

“Please, Marci,” he said, battling his own emotions. “I – ”

“You got what you wanted.” She folded her arms and backed away from him. “Now I’ll help you catch Paul, then we can be done with each other.”

Her voice hitched as she ran into her bedroom and shut the door.

Cade pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t blame her for what she’d said. He had used women before. Had lied.

But that kiss hadn’t been a lie. And the last thing that had been on his mind when he’d held her in his arms was the investigation.

*~*~*~*

Marci wanted to throw herself on the bed and cry, but she refused to do that. She would not shed another tear over Paul Pendergrass.

And she certainly wouldn’t cry over Cade Muller.

Detective Muller, she corrected herself.

She had gotten herself into this mess and now she’d get herself out.

Then she was done with men.

Forever.

She flipped on the television in search of some light-hearted movie to take her mind off of her problems, but a special news broadcast was airing.

“Protestors are rallying outside the local police station demanding to know what’s being done to find Paul Pendergrass,” the reporter said.

At least a hundred seniors wagged signs up and down as they marched and yelled at the cameras.

“Find Paul Pendergrass!” they chanted.

“Get our money back!” more protestors yelled.

Marci’s phone trilled again, and she grimaced and checked the number. Kim.

She flipped the TV off, unable to bear watching any more of the protest rally. Although she couldn’t blame anyone for being mad and wanting answers, she’d had to put her phone on vibrate just to avoid their personal calls and rants against her. Some of them had gotten plain nasty.

Desperately needing to hear her sister’s voice, she punched connect. Too late she remembered though that her arrest was threatening Kim’s children’s center.

“Marci, it’s Kim. I’ve been calling you half the day. I just saw the news footage of the scene at the Varsity. Are you all right?”

Marci rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Kim said.  “I’m coming over there – “

“No, please don’t,” Marci said. “I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.” And pull the covers over her head and stay there until this whole mess died down.

But there would still be hundreds of people out there who’d lost their money, thanks to her love fest with Paul Pendergrass.

The fucker.

“I know you’re upset, Marci, but I’m worried.  I saw that detective with you –“

“Yes, he’s been watching me,” she said. And kissing me and making me fall for him.

“What do you mean, watching you?”

“He bugged my phone, so when Paul called and asked me to bring him the money he left behind, he followed me.”

“Paul called you and asked you to bring him stolen money and you did it?” Kim asked in an incredulous tone. “What were you thinking, sis?”

“I must be crazy,” Marci cried. “I thought if I took it to him, he might tell me that this was all a mistake and we could fix everything and be happy again.”

“Fix things?” Kim was practically shouting now. “Marci, this is serious. Paul conned all those people and if you tried to help him flee the country, you could go to jail.”

“I know that,” Marci said, exasperated. “But I didn’t, and everything is under control so don’t yell at me!”

Furious, she slammed down the phone.  Then she closed her eyes, berating herself for losing her temper. Kim had meant well, she knew that.

Kim always meant well.

She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

Just like always, she’d screwed things up for not only herself but for her wonderful sweet sister who’d never harmed a soul in her life.

Perspiration beaded on her forehead.

Why did Kim have to be such a saint?

It’s not her fault you screwed up.

Unable to stand the guilt, she punched Kim’s number.  She answered on the second ring. “Hello.”

Geesh. She could tell she was crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said, heavy with guilt. “I’m just frustrated, Kim, and so sorry I messed up your work.”

“Marci – “

“No, don’t say anything,” Marci said quickly.  “I will make it right, Kim. I’ll find a way to get those people back their money and to save your center.”

She didn’t wait for a response; she hung up.

Cade’s masculine scent wafted around her, and she sniffed her shirt.   Drat. Her clothes were permeated with him.

Determined to right Paul’s wrongs and forget about what had happened with Cade, she stripped her clothes. She had to quit breathing him in, thinking of him.

Wanting him.

Instead, she had to set a trap for Paul.

That meant she had to talk to Cade.

Detective Muller, she muttered, as she pushed herself up to go have a chat with him.

They’d devise a plan. Midnight was in a few hours, and the clock was ticking.

She yanked on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater, then smoothed down her hair, mentally blocking out memories of that kiss.

Time to make a deal with the devil.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cade silently chastised himself for taking it too far with Marci. She was right.

She was vulnerable, and he’d taken advantage of that vulnerability because his  libido had spiraled out of control.

The trouble was, he still wanted her.

“You heard,” Marci said as she ended the call with Paul. “Now what? Do I need to talk to a lawyer, to make some kind of deal?”

Her voice was so flat that he instinctively knew he’d really hurt her.

He had to make it up to her.

“You don’t need a lawyer,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

Marci fidgeted. “But you said I could be arrested for aiding and abetting.”

There was no way in hell he’d let her go to jail. “Only if you’re planning to run off with him. Is that what you’re going to do?”

Her gaze met his, her beautiful eyes filled with pain. “No. I….see now that Paul was just using me.”

Like she thought he’d used her.

“I’ll arrange a deal with the D.A. In exchange for your cooperation, the charges against you will be dropped.”

She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip.  “Then my record will be cleared?”

He nodded. “As if it never happened.”

“How about my sister’s investors? They need to know that she didn’t have anything to do with this scam, so they don’t pull out?”

So that was her motive. She wanted to protect her sister. Admirable that she loved her so much.

“If I have to talk to each one of them myself, I promise you they’ll know the truth, Marci.”

The anxiety on her face lifted slightly. “Thank you, Detective.”

“Cade,” he said automatically.

Her gaze met his, the tension rippling between them. God help him, he wanted to kiss her. To fold her in his arms and promise her that he’d never let anyone hurt her again.

But they still had to catch Pendergrass. And betraying him by setting her fiancé up was going to cost Marci.

He wished he could find a way to handle this without asking her to do that.

But so far, they hadn’t been able to apprehend him.

And tonight, she was going to meet him. He couldn’t turn down this opportunity to catch the bastard.

Not even to protect Marci.

*~*~*~*

Guilt suffused Marci at the idea of betraying Paul.

Maybe lying to people and conning them didn’t bother him or the detective, but she had never blatantly deceived anyone. Well, except for when she and Kim had switched places and Kim had played Austin’s fiancé.

But that had been harmless. And it had turned out great in the end.

Plus, helping the police capture Paul meant sending him to jail.

Two days ago, she’d been in love with him, had thought they had a bright future together.

Now she was alone, she had a criminal record, her ex-fiancé –  they were definitely exes now although they hadn’t officially broken up --  was running from the law.

Worse, she’d practically crawled into bed with the enemy.

The cop who’d handcuffed her and hauled her from her wedding and thrown her in jail.

What in the world was wrong with her? Why was she such a wreck when it came to men?

She must have some mental deficiency that enabled her to let her desires and hunger, and her need for comfort and love, override her common sense.

How pathetic.

“So how do we do this?” she asked, remembering the countless Law & Order episodes she’d watched. “You’re going to follow me in some unmarked car?  Do I wear a wire?”

Cade gave her an odd look, almost apologetic looking. But she couldn’t allow herself to believe that he cared.

“I don’t know. Let me talk to my partner.” He reached for his phone.  “You’re doing the right thing, Marci.”

“The right thing for who? For you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

He tapped the newspaper on the table indicating a half dozen sob stories from the victims.

Judy Baliff and her husband had sold their pig farm to buy resort land and now were living in a shack with his mama. Wiley Duffy and his wife had to dip into their grandchildren’s college funds to pay bills. Erin Gayner and her husband were out on the streets.

The stories went on and on…

“The right thing for all those innocent people he cheated,” he said, his jaw set.  “They lost their savings, futures they’d counted on, their retirement funds, their dreams because Paul Pendergrass is a greedy son of a bitch.”

That put it into perspective. If Paul really had done that, he deserved to rot in a cell.

“Let me call Georgia and we’ll make the arrangements.”

She nodded, missing the closeness they’d shared earlier.  For a moment when he’d held her and kissed her, her troubles had fled and she’d felt …safe.

Almost cared for.

But that had been an illusion.

Too tempted to lean on him now, she decided she had to be alone. The sight of her bed resurrected an image of that torn mattress, driving home the reality that someone wanted her dead.

But who hated her that much?

One of the people she’d unknowingly helped Paul cheat?

She spotted her photo album sticking out of the pile of books and magazines she’d crammed back on the shelf in her haste to clean up from the break-in, and picked it up.

The picture of her and Kim, arms linked, on the cover made her heart squeeze.

At least if she cleared herself, Kim’s precious child center would be saved.

She slumped down on the bed and thumbed through the photos of her childhood, marked by picture after picture of her and Kim. Kim, always the sensible one.

The one who won the achievement awards. The spelling bee. The most honorable student. The class president.

Her on the dance team in a harem costume. A shot of her in a protest rally banning the dress code the school had instilled.

Then a string of photos of different boyfriends. She’d changed them almost as much as she had her outfits.

Next came Kim at graduation, their mother with her arm around her as Kim displayed her valedictorian award.

Marci had been in the background, plotting how to sneak out that night and party with her friends while Kim wrote essays for her college applications.

There were other memories documented there, too. The day another girl beat her up at school. Kim had helped her hide the bruises from their mother who had become less and less available to them. Then there was the night she’d been dumped by her latest boyfriend. He’d put her out on the side of the road because she had refused to put out for him.

Kim had come to the rescue again.

Because their mother was sowing her own wild oats. And their father had been dust in the winds for years.

She owed Kim. Kim had always taken care of her, rescued her butt from trouble, and given her unconditional love when no one else had.

She stood, her resolve renewed. She’d wear a wire and do anything she had to do in order to protect Kim from being slandered now.

*~*~*~*

“You think she’s on the level?” Georgia asked. “She’s really going to cooperate and turn her fiancé in?”

Cade raked a hand through his hair. “Yes.”

“So she got scared enough to agree to help you trap Pendergrass?”

“Something like that. I did offer to get the charges dropped against her.” Cade scanned the parking lot in case the shooter had decided to stake out Marci’s place. A gray car on the far right side caught his eye and he studied it.

“Ahh, I knew she had a motive.”

“That’s not it,” he said, remembering her reaction to her sister’s problems.  “She didn’t help Pendergrass con those people.  She was duped just like they were.”

“You’re the one being duped by her,” Georgia muttered.

“That’s not fair,” Cade snapped.  “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Admit it, Cade, you want in her pants,” Georgia said snidely.

“Drop the attitude, Georgia,” Cade said. “Just because she’s good looking doesn’t make her evil.”

In fact, he was starting to think Marci was one of the sweetest, kindest women he’d ever met. She obviously loved her sister and would do anything to protect her reputation, even to the point of endangering herself.

She simply had a trusting innocence about her that left her vulnerable to being taken advantage of by others. One he found appealing.

Especially since he’d lost his innocence a long damn time ago. And trusting wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“Maybe we should trade places, Cade. I could babysit her and let you interview the other vics.”

“No,” Cade said.  “You’re not objective. You’ll only alienate her.”

“I’m not objective?” Georgia said, sounding miffed.

“No,” Cade said.  “Besides, I’ve built a relationship with her.”

“I can see that.”

Cade grappled for control. “Listen to me, Georgia. I’ve been tracking Pendergrass far too long to let anything prevent me from nailing him. Especially Marci Turner.”

He suddenly sensed something behind him, then turned and saw Marci’s face pale in the moonlight.

Shit. She’d heard every word he’d said.

“Just bring over the wire, and we’ll make a plan.” He snapped the phone shut, then sighed. “Listen, Marci, I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”

Marci lifted her chin.  “It’s no problem, Detective. Let’s just get it over with.”

Cade reached for her to explain, but she disappeared inside, cutting him off.

She was right.

He had to finish the job. He couldn’t push her for more.

After all, she might still be in love with the man he was about to arrest.

*~*~*~*

Marci forced her emotions at bay. She was going to survive tonight, then Cade would be out of her life, and she could fall apart.

Maybe Cade could find the money Paul had stolen and give it back to the people he’d conned.

She busied herself cleaning her bedroom and bath. Then she spent a half hour trying to decide what kind of shirt she should wear to hide a wire. The sheer navy silk blouse was one of Paul’s favorites, but you could see through it. The white tank accentuated her figure, but was so tight he’d see the ripple of the wire. Maybe the black v-neck with the plunging neckline…

She tried it and checked the mirror. Yep, it flattered her figure enough to distract him, but was loose and long enough over her leggings to work.

Who knew dressing for undercover work was such a chore?

The clock seemed to tick away the hours in slow motion, but finally Cade’s partner arrived. She had no idea why the cop hated her so much, but she latched onto what dignity she had left and faced her, determined not to allow her bad attitude to daunt her.

She’d born the brunt of mean girls before and survived. She would now.

“Thanks for coming, Georgia,” Cade said.

“Are you ready to do this?” Detective Strait asked Marci.

She nodded.  “I’m supposed to meet him at midnight.”

“I have two undercover officers in place already,” Detective Strait said. “Plus Cade and I will also be there.” She gestured toward Marci’s shirt.  “You’ll have to take that off for me to wire you.”

Marci clenched her teeth, then slipped it over her head.

Cade’s eyes darkened for a moment as his gaze took in her black lacy bra, then he turned and strode to the window and looked out, his expression steely.

But she couldn’t help but remember his fingers tearing at the buttons on her other blouse, his hands and lips raking over her with desire.

“You’re shivering,” Detective Strait said as she attached the small microphone to her bra. “Nervous?”

Marci nodded. No way she’d admit that she was thinking about Cade Muller’s lips and hands when she was supposed to be focusing on the plan.

The detective wound the wire around her belly and taped it in place. Marci glanced down at the woman’s stern concentration and wondered what kind of bra she wore. Probably one made of steel so no man could take it off.

The detective checked to make sure the microphone was secure. “There, that should stay in place.”

Marci nodded, then pulled her shirt over her head, anxious to get the night over with. “It’s eleven-thirty. I should go now.”

Cade turned back to her, his dark eyes latching onto her and sending a quiver through her belly. The man was infuriating. He didn’t have to say anything or even touch her, and her body heated up.

Maybe she should talk to her doctor when this was over. She might have some kind of hormone malfunction…

Surely there was some kind of pill that could prevent her from aching for a man.

“You won’t see us but we’ll be there,” Detective Strait said.

Cade caught her arm as she grabbed her keys and the duffel bag.  “I will be there, Marci, but be careful.”

“Don’t say anything to tip him that we’re watching,” Detective Strait warned. “Or that deal is off.”

Marci glared at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”

She turned to Cade. “Just remember our bargain, I want Kim’s investors to know that she’s on the up and up.”

“I promise,” he said.

Marci clenched the duffel bag and the fake suitcase she’d packed to make Paul believe she was running away with him, then headed down the stairs to her car.

She just hoped that everything went as planned.

Then she’d be free of Paul and the cops and could start her life over again.

This time – without a man.

*~*~*~*

He punched in his boss’s number. “It’s going down tonight.”

“Marci’s helping the cops?”

“It looks that way. Detective Strait just wired her, and she’s walking to her car.”

“Follow them,” he said. “And remember I want Pendergrass, no matter how you have to take him. But do not hurt Marci.”

He shrugged. He’d do whatever he was paid to do. But he was beginning to wonder why his boss wanted the Turner woman alive.

And just what he planned to do with her.

Because he knew his boss, and he definitely had plans.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cade had wanted to ride with Marci to the drop spot, but Georgia insisted that he let her go alone in case Pendergrass had someone watching her. After all, he had had help leaving the country club. For all they knew, he had eyes on her.

Especially since the meet-up at the Varsity had gone bad.

“Don’t lose her,” he told Georgia as she cut through the downtown traffic onto the interstate.

“Calm down,” Georgia said. “We’ve got this covered.”

He shifted in the passenger seat, frustrated that he wasn’t driving. At least then he’d have some control.

“We need a lead on the shooter,” he said as he inched to the edge of the seat to keep Marci’s VW bug in sight. For heaven’s sake, he understood why people nicknamed it a bug. It was so tiny it could get lost in a crowd and could be squashed in seconds.

Perspiration beaded on his neck. He did not want anything bad to happen to Marci.

“We’re still digging up names of people he scammed,” Georgia said. “It’s been a nightmare. Half of the people were too embarrassed at being conned to even come forward.”

And the other half had protested in front of the police station half the night.

Cade understood both sides. His own nana had been embarrassed, blaming herself, saying it wouldn’t have happened if she’d been younger and more alert.

She was the most alert eighty-something he knew. And he had told her that.

Dammit. The money Pendergrass had stolen was criminal, but the mental anguish he’d inflicted on those elderly citizens, the way he’d preyed on the insecurities accompanying their golden years, infuriated him.

His nana said that Pendergrass had made her feel special, that he’d raved about how astute she was for her age, and that was one reason he wanted to help her achieve her dreams.

A bunch of hogwash, but it had worked. Because nobody wanted to feel like they were old. Everyone, no matter what age, wanted to feel valuable and cared for and appreciated.

Pendergrass had understood that, too.

And used it to his advantage.

Pendergrass had done the same thing to dozens of women for years. Made them feel special, cherished, like he was devoted to making their dreams come true.

And sweet, innocent, kind-hearted Marci had fallen for his charm.

He fisted his hands as they turned off the interstate and headed toward the Chattahoochee.

The bastard was pure pond scum.

And he would see that he paid.

*~*~*~*

Marci’s stomach was rolling like a teenager after her first drunk. She had never been so nervous in her life.

Well, maybe on her first prom date.

And that had been a disaster because Jimmy Churozo’s ex-girlfriend had, in a jealous rage, sprayed peanut oil on Jimmy’s condom packet, and when they’d tried to have sex his penis had swelled up like a giant cucumber and he’d nearly gone into anaphylactic shock.

Thank God he’d had an EpiPen with him so she’d stabbed him in the thigh and saved his life, but the moment had been recorded for all the senior class to enjoy via Jimmy’s ex’s video camera.

Her mother had nearly disowned her that night. And poor Kim…she’d barely gone out of the house for a month, and when she had, she’d worn a disguise.

But that incident hadn’t been her fault. Not really.

But this was her fault. Because she had been stupid enough to believe that Paul was the kind, honest, sincere gentleman he purported to be.

Fool.

She was never going to trust another man.

She cut across the side street off Roswell Road down toward the river, to the little spot she’d shown Paul on their third date. They’d downed a bottle of wine while listening to the current ripple by.

Then they’d shared some hot kisses that had eventually led to a sexy romp on the grass. Although truth be told, he had been a little fast on the start that night.

And a few times later.

But she’d chalked that up to him being so excited to be with her.

Now she wondered if he didn’t have some …problem in that department.

Of course, now she realized the reason --  he hadn’t been that in to her. Shoot, he might have been faking the whole time.

While she’d felt bad for him and glossed over his ineptness, had rubbed and stroked his dick until her hand had cramped to get him hard again, he’d been scheming to use her to rob people blind.

And instead of learning her g-spot, which she’d practically had to mark with a Sharpee, the sneaky cheating liar had been looking way north at all the rich senior women he could persuade to open their purses for him.

Anger mixed with disappointment, and a sliver of fear as she left the main road and veered onto the turnoff for the deserted little section that she’d once considered a romantic haven.

Now it looked creepy, overgrown with trees, weeds and kudzu, like a perfect place to dump a dead body so it wouldn’t ever be found.

A terrifying thought occurred to her.

What if Paul had hired that shooter? Maybe he’d planned to have her offed after she gave him the cash…

Shivering, she parked in the turnoff, then grabbed the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder, along with her overnight bag.

She had to make this look real.

Dark clouds rumbled above, reminding her of the sudden storms that cropped up in the south, and she was grateful she’d worn tennis shoes instead of her stilettos. As much as she loved her heels, sometimes a girl had to be practical, had to sacrifice style to save her hide.

Especially these days when women were so frustrated with the quality of the male gene pool that they’d put up with a man’s shortcomings because pickins’ were so slim.

Where had all the good men gone?

Leaves and twigs crackled beneath her shoes as she picked her way through the brush toward the ancient vine she and the other teens had used as a rope. Crickets chirped, mingling with the buzz of insects and the sound of the river gurgling over the jagged rocks.

Night had long set in, the deserted area a reminder that it was midnight and most sane people were at home in bed asleep or tucked in with their lovers, which was where she desperately wanted to be.

Cade’s handsome dark face flashed in her mind and she released a shaky breath.

Nope. No crawling into bed with the man who’d arrested her.

Even if he was a sex goddess in disguise.

Cade – Detective Muller – wanted one thing from her and one thing only. For her to lure Paul into a trap.

The memory of that sensational erotic kiss taunted her. Well, he was a man, and maybe he wanted one more thing.

But he wasn’t going to get it, dammit!

Heck, he’d probably had cop training in the art of seduction to earn his badge.

Still, she’d bet her mama’s second wedding ring that if she got naked with a man again that he would leave her satisfied, not hunting for Mr. V to finish the job when he literally petered out.

*~*~*~*

“Do you have her in your sights?” Cade whispered into the mike.

“Roger,” Officer Cowen said.  “I have the north side of the entrance covered.”

“I have the south,” Officer Hupert murmured.

And Georgia was to the east of him near the park.

Cade paced the bushes, uneasy. Something about this didn’t feel right.

It smelled like a set up. Only that was impossible. The only people who knew about it were Marci, Georgia, his chief, and the two officers on duty.

And he’d been with Mari every moment since they’d made the plan. She couldn’t have alerted Pendergrass that it was a trap.

Could she?

He dug his heels in. He didn’t want to distrust her, but …

“Someone’s coming,” Officer Cowen said quietly.

Cade paused near the clearing where Marci had planted herself. She’d said just enough when they’d talked about the meet place for him to get the gist. She and Pendergrass had enjoyed a romantic tryst here.

The thought of that jerk touching her made him want to hit something.

“A dark blue mustang is approaching on this end,” the officer murmured.

Cade tensed. He’d expect Pendergrass to show up in a nondescript car.

“Oh, shit,” Cowen said. “It’s some young couple.”

“Get rid of them,” Georgia ordered.

“Roger that,” Cowen said.

Cade rubbed his hand over the butt of his gun. He hated waiting, wondering if the man would show. If Marci might change her mind and run off with him…

If he might get hurt...

He jerked his head to the side, then spotted the silhouette of a man weaving through the trees. Who the hell?

“I hear something,” Georgia whispered.

He paused, the low sound of a motor rumbling in the distance. He glanced through the trees at the river scanning it and noticed a boat coasting down stream.

A boat without its lights on.

“I thought I saw someone in the woods,” Cade said into his mike. “And downstream, a boat is coming this way. No lights on.”

“Go after the figure in the woods,” Georgia said. “I’ll cover the boat.”

Cade hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Marci at the hands of anyone else. But he had to do his job.

“Copy that.”  Forcing himself to move quietly, he headed in the direction of the figure. Maybe it was the shooter, and he could end this mystery now.

More trees rustled ahead, then the sound of an animal’s growl. A dog? Something else? Were there coyotes by the river?

Removing his gun from his jacket pocket, he braced himself and inched closer.

*~*~*~*

Marci twitched. It felt like a million eyes were watching her. Wild animals in the woods? The cops Cade had brought in?

Paul?

And maybe the shooter who wanted them dead…

She hugged the duffel bag to her, unable to resist checking to see how much cash was inside. Stacks of hundred dollar bills were banded together in thick piles. Maybe twenty-five of them.

The sound of a boat puttering jerked her attention up, and she bit her lip. She should have known that Paul would choose a boat. They had taken one down the river on their fifth date.

Another disaster in the lovemaking department, but she’d tried to be a patient girl.  I mean, she hadn’t expected perfection every time…

Again, it struck her that Cade wouldn’t have any problems performing.

Stop thinking about Cade. He arrested you!

And he’d do it again if she didn’t cooperate and do her part in trapping Paul.

Leaves rustled behind her, and she swung around, her stomach spinning as if she was five-years-old. Shadows plagued her from every bush and tree, monsters hiding in between them like they had when she’d been a little girl.

She’d been terrified and had cried for her mother and father, but Kim had been the one to crawl in bed with her and soothe her fears.

She had to stand strong now.

Betraying Paul was a small price to pay for her sister who’d saved her butt more than once.

The boat grew nearer, the water rippling small waves as it puttered toward her. She squinted, trying to tell if it was Paul behind the wheel, but all she could see was a man hunched in a dark sweatshirt and a hat.

But the Bruce Springsteen tune echoing from the boat sent an odd feeling down her spine, tickling old memories she hadn’t thought about in years. She’d never heard Paul listening to Bruce Springsteen.

But her parents had loved him

Probably a fluke. Paul had probably found the first available station, anything to make it sound like he simply out cruising.

The boat slowed, and she clawed at the duffel bag, antsy to get the meeting over with and go home. As the boat neared, a shadow moved to her left, then a smaller boat drifted toward them from the opposite direction.

The man in the hat, Paul she presumed, steered the first boat to the edge of the water. The bag clutched in her hand, she stood and hurried toward the embankment. “Paul – ”

“Throw the money on board,” Paul said quietly.

She tossed the duffel bag to him, then lifted her overnight suitcase. She had to get closer to him, get him to talk so the cops could move in.

“You still think someone framed you?” Marci asked.

The duffel bag hit the floor of the boat, then Paul opened it and dove in.

“I didn’t take any of it if that’s what you’re looking for,” Marci said, unable to hide the edge to her voice.

“I never said you did.”

“Why did you do it?” Marci asked, struggling to see him in his dark hoody and black pants.

The sound of water swishing against the boat echoed in the silence.  Then Paul cursed.  “Don’t you start ragging on me – ”

A gunshot blasted the air, cutting off his sentence.

Marci screamed and ducked to take cover behind a tree. Damn Cade. The cops weren’t supposed to shoot.

Leaves rustled, another shot echoed in the night, then Paul spun the boat around and headed across the river at rocket speed.

“Wait!” she shouted.

But the spray of water from the boat splashed her, and any hope she’d had that Paul had been innocent died.

The other boat darted after Paul’s boat, bouncing in his wake across the choppy water.

Paul disappeared into the darkness on the other side.

*~*~*~*

Cade fired at the shooter, cursing as the man raced through the woods. Dammit to hell. Pendergrass was zipping away in a boat, a second boat was following him, and he had a shooter hiding in the woods.

Branches slapped him in his face as he followed, stumbling over tree stumps in the dark to keep up. Another shot rang out and he ducked as it pinged off a tree near his head.

Another one skimmed his arm, a flesh wound but it still stung. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. The bastard was getting away.

“I’ve lost visual,” Cade snapped into his microphone.

“So have we,” Georgia said into his ear.

“Marci?” He wiped at the blood soaking his sleeve as he slipped from one tree to the next. “Is she all right?”

“Yes,” Georgia said. “The two uniforms are searching to see where Pendergrass put the boat in. Maybe we’ll get him that way.”

Cade cursed. By the time they drove to the other side of the river, he’d be long gone.

He hunched low as he crept around some pines, then the sound of a car engine cut through the night. “Who was in that other damn boat?”

“Hell if I know,” Georgia said. “It’s not one of ours.”

Was it the same shooter who’d fired at the Varsity? Or was that the SOB in the woods?

He climbed through a clump of weeds, then heard a car engine in the distance. Probably the shooter’s getaway car.

Whoever it was must be tailing Marci or else how would they have known about the meeting here?

He jogged back to the clearing toward Marci. Georgia had said she was okay, but he had to see for himself.

“Shooter escaped in a dark sedan,” he said into the mike.

“So far no word on Pendergrass or the other boat,” Georgia replied.

Five minutes later, he made it back to the meet spot and saw Marci trembling as she stood beneath a giant oak.

The urge to comfort her overcame him, and he rushed forward.

The moment she spotted his bloody sleeve, she cried out. “Oh, my god, Cade, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he said, so relieved that she was safe that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the burn in his arm, or the fact that his partner was watching him with disapproving eyes.

He folded Marci in his arms and whispered that everything was going to be all right.

*~*~*~*

Dammit to hell and back. He’d lost Pendergrass again. The cunning bastard had used the boat to cross the river and probably had a car waiting on the other side. And this time he had the money with him.

He had to call the boss and let him know.

But the boss wasn’t going to like it.

Shit. He hit the steering wheel with his fist, contemplating what to do.

There was only one option. He had to set a trap himself for Pendergrass.

Then an idea hit him – he’d use Marci Turner. Pendergrass might have left her high and dry to face the cops, but he was a con man, not a killer.

If he thought his fiancé was in danger, he’d come back for her.

At least he hoped he would.

It was the only thing he could think of.

The boss might not like it, but he wanted Pendergrass bad. And this was the only way to get him.

Now, he just had to wait until Marci was alone to take her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cade felt Marci lean into him and squeezed her, breathing in her scent.

She could have been killed.

She sighed against him, evoking memories of their earlier kiss, and he nearly lost himself.

But Georgia was watching, and they were on a case, so he forced himself to pull away.

Georgia cleared her throat behind him, then gave Marci a cutting look. “Ms. Turner, you knew he’d come in a boat, didn’t you? Why didn’t you warn us?”

Marci looked stunned.  “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“Really?” Georgia narrowed her eyes. “Does he own a boat?”

Marci shook her head.  “Not that I know of.” She winced. “Of course, it’s obvious that I don’t know much about Paul at all.”

“Is it?” Georgia asked. “Or are you just a good liar?”

Cade clenched his jaw.  “Marci, do you have any idea where Pendergrass would go now?”

Marci’s hand shook as she shoved her fingers through her hair.  “No. We’d planned to honeymoon in Tahiti, but you know that already.”

“Did he mention any other property he owned? Family anywhere?”

“His mother died two years ago,” Marci said. “And his father is a businessman who travels all over Europe. I thought it was odd he didn’t make it to the wedding, but apparently he was in the middle of an important deal that meant millions.”

“None of that is true,” Georgia said flatly.  “Paul Pendergrass grew up in poverty. His mother is still alive and lives in a shanty outside New Orleans.”

Marci gasped.  “What? That can’t be true.”

“I’m afraid it is true,” Cade cut in softly.  “Pendergrass isn’t his real name either. It’s Podinsky. He grew up with nothing, Marci. We think that’s what motivated him to become a con artist to accumulate his fortune.”

“And why he wanted a big showy, society wedding,” Marci muttered to herself. “Even though he knew it would be risky. His ego needed it.”

“Let’s don’t start feeling sorry for the creep again,” Georgia said.

“Don’t worry,” Marci said sharply. “Every time I think about what he did to the sweet women at the club, I want to strangle him.”

“We’ll see that he pays,” Cade said.

Georgia patted her gun attached to her hip, but her look toward Marci softened. “You did your part,” Georgia said. “So go home, Ms. Turner. But if you hear from him again, let us know.”

Marci frowned at Georgia. “Right. Like you don’t have my phones tapped already.”

Georgia gave Cade a dirty look, but he shrugged it off. He hadn’t had to tell Marci.  She was a lot smarter than Georgia had given her credit for.

He aimed a challenging look at Georgia. “See if you can narrow down the suspect pool for the shooter. Pendergrass may be gone, but someone else wants him. Marci could still be in danger.”

Marci’s eyes widened at his statement, and he placed a hand at the small of her back. “Come on, Marci. I’ll drive you home.”

“You really think he may come back after me?” Marci asked as they wove back through the woods to her car.

“I don’t know,” Cade said, his chest tight. “But if he does, I’m going to be there to stop him. And this time he won’t get away.”

*~*~*~*

Marci struggled with the truth as Cade drove her back to her apartment. Paul had lied to her about his family. His name.

Everything.

She couldn’t believe anything that he’d said now.

Especially that he’d loved her.

Why did all the men in her life leave her? First her father. Now Paul.

She lapsed into silence until they arrived at her place, then Cade followed her up the steps. She stiffened when she saw him scanning the property, one hand planted over the gun beneath his jacket.

He really thought the shooter might come back for her…

The keys jangled as she tried to open her door. With an impatient sigh, Cade took the keys and unlocked it for her.  Unnerved by the night, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a big glass of wine.

“Would you like one?” she asked, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of being alone with Cade. The memories of them almost making love were too fresh in her mind. Too tempting.

“You have a beer?”

She nodded, reached into the frig and handed him one.

“Thanks.” He shrugged. “I don’t usually drink on the job, but …”

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “It’s been a rough night.”

His dark gaze latched with hers and her body tingled.

She had to distract herself from wanting him. “What else don’t I know about my ex-fiancé?” she finally asked.

Cade sighed as if he didn’t want to tell her. “Marci – ”

“It’s okay,” she said, bracing herself.  “I can take it.”

He glanced at her for a moment, regret lining his chiseled face, then he gave a clipped nod. “So far, we think he had two other aliases. He could have had more, but that’s all we’ve dug up to date. The first was Paul Phillips. The second Paul Pollock. Pendergrass would be his third.”

“So he sticks with double Ps,” she said dryly. “Probably makes it easier to keep the monogramed handkerchiefs he always carried.”

Cade winced. “Probably.”

She propped one hip against the kitchen counter. “What else?”

“He started out in Florida with real estate,” Cade said. “Then he went to Texas and racked up big time with some ranch property. The two ventures probably triggered the idea for the Desert Sand Resort.”

“Hmm.”

Cade took a sip of his beer. “The two men at your wedding, the best man was one of Paul’s partners, and so was the preacher.”

“I take it he wasn’t a real preacher.”

“Afraid not.”

She stared into the wine glass, contemplating that revelation. “So our marriage wouldn’t have even been legal.”

“No. He’s been married twice before, not divorced.”

“So he’s a bigamist, too.” Marci released a nervous laugh and rubbed at her forehead where a headache pulsed.  “What else?”

“We think there may be an even bigger partner,” Cade said. “He’s an older guy, astute looking. We have photos of him in jail with Paul.”

Marci swung her head toward Cade.  “Paul served time?”

“Not for long,” Cade said. “It was early on, some petty stuff. But we think that’s where he met this other man.”

“What’s his name?”

“Harvey Tuckman,” Cade said. “Some lawyer managed to bail him out, and he’s been in the wind since.”

“I can’t believe all this,” Marci said. “How could I have been so blind?”

Cade took another long pull on the bottle, then wiped his mouth.  “Look how many people he conned, Marci. You weren’t the only one who trusted him.”

Sick at the thought of him touching her, using her, laughing at her, she turned her glass up and drained it.

Any guilt she had for wearing the wire fled.

Still, she felt ill and wanted the blasted thing off.

“Maybe he did love you,” Cade said softly.

Marci shoved her shirt up and jerked at the wire.  “You don’t lie to people you love.”

Cade reached out and gently touched the wire.  “Here,  let me. You’re going to rip off your skin if you aren’t careful.”

His touch sent a million sensations through her. “He targeted me because I was friends with the seniors who came in at the restaurant,” she said, finally catching on as she mentally climbed into Paul’s head.  “And I knew several ladies from the hair salon.”

Cade removed the wire and tossed it on the counter, his breath rattling in the silence. “Listen, Marci, stop beating yourself up.”

“I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” Marci whispered.

She reached for the wine bottle to pour herself another drink, but Cade caught her hand and squeezed it. “No, you’re not. Even my grandmother fell for his spiel.”

“Your nana hates me,” Marci said, her heart aching as she remembered his grandmother’s assault with her purse.

“She was just upset,” Cade said in a low voice.

“She had a right to be,” Marci said miserably.  “Whether I meant to or not, I helped Paul cheat those people.” She looked into Cade’s eyes. “How can I ever make that right?”

A muscle ticked in Cade’s jaw. “You started doing that tonight,” he said softly.  Slowly he slid one hand into her hair and pulled her closer.  “You were brave to go after him.”

Marci wanted to believe Cade. To trust him.

But what if he didn’t care about her either?

Then he closed his mouth over hers, and she forgot about Paul and Nana Muller and the guilt eating at her. All she could think about was how erotic it was to have Cade’s lips against hers.

And that she never wanted to let him go.

*~*~*~*

Cade knew touching Marci was wrong. But the heat in his body pushed him to cross the line.

And there was no going back.

Not when Marci melted against him and threaded her fingers into his hair. Not when her tongue darted into his mouth to tease him.

Not when her soft breath whispered against his neck as she lowered her head and nibbled at his neck.

She shouldn’t have stripped that shirt in front of him. Granted she’d been frantic to remove the wire, but one touch of her soft skin had heated his blood to a fiery pitch.

Need like nothing he’d ever experienced drove him to unfasten that lacy black bra. Her beautiful breasts spilled into his hands and he moaned, driving his mouth over hers again as he kneaded her flesh in his hands.

Marci curled into him, her nipples puckering against his palms as he brushed them over the delicate nubs. Suddenly she was driving him, pushing him backward, pulling him toward her bedroom.

He hesitated as she reached for his shirt, but she pressed her lips to his chest again, then trailed heady tongue lashes down his torso until he thought he would go out of his mind.

Hunger spiraled through him, the need to take her spiking his adrenaline, and he yanked off his shirt, then raked his fingers over her nipples again, smiling as she purred his name.

“Cade …”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m here.” Her eyes met his, doubts mingling with pain.

He wanted to erase that hurt from her eyes. Destroy any memory of Paul Pendergrass’s touch.

Make her his.

Primitive instincts surged through him, and he pushed her onto the bed. Her hair tumbled wildly around her bare shoulders, a picture of decadence that made his body harden and ache.

Then she licked those delicious lips like he’d seen her do a dozen times, and he dumped his gun, handcuffs, phone and wallet onto the nightstand. A second later, he shrugged off his jeans and socks and reached for her pants. For a fraction of a second, a shy look passed over her face, endearing him more.

But a vixen lay beneath the surface, a woman who breathed life in the air around her with her sexy smiles and laughter.

Only she hadn’t been laughing lately.

He was going to change all that.

Slowly he peeled off her jeans, his breath catching at the sight of her curves encased in sheer black lace. The tattoo he’d seen before tempted him now, and he planted a kiss on it, earning a giggle from Marci.

“That tickles,” she whispered.

“How about this?” he said as he stretched out on top of her and stroked her body with his.

“That feels delicious,” she murmured.

A throaty laugh rumbled from his chest, then he looked down into her eyes and saw the same desire he felt for her mirrored in the depths. His heart hammered out of control.

He wanted her now. Tomorrow.

Maybe always.

Fear shot through him at the thought. He was not a one-woman kind of man.

But she licked at his ear, and he forgot about his reservations. Too many titillating sensations were assaulting him.

He kissed her again, this time so deeply she stroked his calf with her foot, arching her body into him. His sex surged toward her, throbbing to be inside her, but he wanted to pleasure her first.

So he trailed a path of kisses down to her breasts, then suckled each one until she cried out his name and begged him to take her.

Even then he made her wait, extended the torture. He parted her legs with his knee then crawled between her thighs and tasted her.

“Cade…” Marci groaned.

The heat in his body intensified as he licked and stroked her damp center. And when he felt her warm sweet honey fill his mouth, and she cried out his name again, he grabbed a condom from his wallet, rolled it on, rose above her and thrust inside her.

Marci’s body clenched his in a mindboggling orgasm, and he pumped inside her, over and over, deeper and harder, creating a frenetic rhythm as they rode the waves of pleasure together.

*~*~*~*

Marci woke to moonlight still shimmering through the window.  Her body was achy and sore but still singing from their lovemaking.

She certainly hadn’t had to draw Cade a map to her g-spot. He had found it the first time.

His erection had lasted more than four minutes, too.

In fact, he had gone for hours and hours…

She rolled over to kiss him again and ask for an encore, but the bed beside her was empty.  Missing Cade already, she pushed her tousled hair from her eyes and blinked, searching the room.

Then she saw him leaning against the window. He was looking at his phone, his brows furrowed.

Something was wrong.

“What is it?” she asked. “Did they catch Paul?”

His gaze flew to hers, the passion gone. Instead, the hard cop was back. And this time he looked furious.

“You tell me, Marci.”

Her heart stuttered at his cold tone.  “What?”

He strode over to her, then jammed the phone in front of her.

Marci gaped in shock at the picture on his screen.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“Stop it with the little coy act, Marci. You’ve been lying to me all along. You played me for a fool.”

Marci shook her head in denial.  “No, that’s not true, Cade – ”

“Don’t bother to defend yourself. That man we talked about last night, Harvey Tuckman has a new alias; Sebastian Zuckerman. He’s the man we believe is Pendergrass’s partner. You told me you didn’t know him.” He tapped the screen. “But there you are, Marci. Having dinner with him, all cozy.” He clicked to reveal another shot, and her throat closed.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I fell for you. You’re just as good a con man as Pendergrass.” He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Were you sleeping with both of them, the three of you working together?”

A myriad of emotions bombarded her -- confusion, hurt, worry, anger.

She flew off the bed, shoved him so hard he fell onto the mattress, then grabbed his handcuffs and slapped one on him, handcuffing him to the bed before he even realized what she was doing.

“That’s not me, you idiot.” Marci grabbed at her clothes. “That’s my sister Kim. And if that man is working with Paul, I sure as hell didn’t know anything about it.”

Cade jerked at the handcuffs.  “But you know him.”

“Of course, I know who he is,” she stammered, battling tears. “And his name isn’t Sebastian Zuckerman or Harvey Tuckman. It’s Samuel Turner.” Her chin wobbled as she sucked in a breath. “The bastard is my father.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Wait, Marci,” Cade said in a pleading tone. “You can’t leave me like this.”

But the sound of the door slamming resounded through the apartment. Cade jerked at the cuffs, frantic to go after Marci.

Dammit. He had screwed up. He’d lost his head when they’d made love, then when he’d seen that picture of her with Sebastian, he’d instantly assumed she was guilty.

She would never forgive him for that.

He should have been able to tell the difference between her and Marci.

But it hadn’t occurred to him that Kim might be involved.

The iron bed rattled as he jerked and pulled at the cuffs. He had to get free. Figure out why the twins’ father had been in jail.

And if he was working with Pendergrass.

Except Marci would hate him even more if he had to bring her father down.

He twisted his arm and wrist, but the cuffs cut into them, and he knew there was no way he’d free himself without the key.

He reached for his wallet on the nightstand, but his fingers weren’t long enough. Frustration knotted his shoulders as he tried to sit up. Then he spotted the key.

On the dresser on the opposite side of the room.

There was no way he could snag it from the bed..

He cursed and twisted his wrist again, but to no avail. The bedposts rattled and noisily as he maneuvered sideways, straining and stretching but to no avail.

Finally he sighed in defeat. He had to call Georgia. Embarrassment flooded him at the thought of her finding him chained to Marci’s bed. She’d know Marci got the drop on him.

And that he had crossed the line and slept with her

But what else could he do?

The shooter might still be after Marci, and she was out there alone, upset and angry and probably not paying attention to her surroundings. It would be easy for someone to sneak up on her.

His heart raced as he frantically searched for his phone. Pulse drumming, he spotted it on the floor beside the bed. Twisting sideways, he dropped one foot over the edge of the bed and stretched. But his toe hit it and nearly knocked it across the room.

Inhaling a deep breath he tried again. This time he angled his body to get both feet on the floor, then he clamped them around the phone and lifted it to the edge of the mattress. A cramp caught in his belly, and he winced, rolling his body sideways enough to drop the phone on the bed. Then he used his right foot to tug it onto the covers.

Inch by inch, he dragged it until he finally closed his fingers around it. Knowing every minute counted, he punched Georgia’s number.

She answered on the second ring.  “I need you to come to Marci Turner’s.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just get over here fast.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

The line went dead, then he struggled to snag his jeans from the floor, tug them on, then snap them while he waited on her. There was no way he could get his shirt on.

Precious seconds ticked by, Marci getting farther and father away from him.

Did she know where her father was? Did Kim?

And if they did, had they known he was connected to Pendergrass?

*~*~*~*

Marci’s heart ached as she raced toward Kim’s. Her sister and Austin had bought a small house in Decatur, a short drive from her own. But it seemed like hours as she wove through the early morning traffic.

Joggers, mothers strolling their babies, and speed walkers filled the sidewalks working off last night’s dinner, moving along as if it was just another day.

As if nothing was wrong.

But everything was wrong.

She’d let herself trust the wrong man again, had given herself to him, had even fallen for him.

But he’d deceived her, used her and never believed her.

And Kim…how could her twin sister, the one person she trusted most in all the world have kept a secret as big as the fact that she’d seen their father from her?

She swung the bug into Kim’s driveway, jumped out and slammed the door, then stormed up to the front door. Austin’s car was still in the drive, along with Kim’s, but it was still dark inside.

She punched the bell again, then grabbed her keys and unlocked the door with the spare Kim had given her. Suddenly a light flickered on, and she heard footsteps in the bedroom. Not caring that she’d awakened them, she shoved open the bedroom door.

Kim shot up in bed while Austin stood there naked.

“Marci?”  Kim and Austin both said at once.

Marci ignored Austin, but he frantically jerked on boxer shorts.  “You could have knocked,” he growled.

“I did,” Marci snapped.

Kim’s brows furrowed in worry.  “Marci, what’s wrong?”

“How could you do this to me, Kim?”

Austin cleared his throat. “Kim?”

“Please, Austin, leave us alone for a minute.”

He looked hesitant, but he ducked into the bathroom, and a moment later, she heard the shower kick on. Kim grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on.

“Marci, I don’t know what’s wrong, but let’s go make some coffee.”

Marci threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t want coffee, Kim, I want to know how you could lie to me.”

“Lie to you?” Kim’s face blanched.  “I haven’t lied to you about anything.”

“The hell you haven’t,” Marci said, hurt pummeling her.  “All my life I wanted to know where Dad was, and now I find out that you knew. That you’ve seen him.”

“Oh, God.” Kim tightened the belt on her robe and rushed toward Marci, her eyes pleading. “Marci, listen to me, I can explain.”

“Explain?” Marci said shrilly. “That you met him and had lunch with him and didn’t bother to tell me.” Memories of crying for her father when she was little flashed back.  “How long have you been seeing him? Why doesn’t he want to talk to me?”

Tears flooded her eyes, the years of hurt compounded by the sense of betrayal.

Of course he’d want to see Kim.

She was the responsible one. The one her mother had been proud of.

Not the screw up.

“It’s not what you think.” Kim crossed her arms, her voice soft, filled with pain.  “I’ve only seen him once. And it was just for a few minutes.”

“But you still didn’t tell me,” Marci cried. “I trusted you, Kim.”

Kim sighed, her eyes watering.  “I know that, and I didn’t tell you because I was hoping Dad would call you.”

Marci wrung her hands together. “But he didn’t.”

Kim ran a hand through her hair. “He only asked me to meet him because he was worried about you.”

“Oh, get real, Kim. I don’t believe that and neither do you.”

“It’s true,” Kim said. “He warned me that Paul might not be good for you. He was concerned about you marrying him.”

The photograph Cade had shown her mocked her.  “Because he was in jail with Paul!”

“What?” Kim asked, genuinely shocked.

“Cade showed me a picture of Dad and you,” Marci said. “He thought it was me.” Her voice cracked.  “He also had a picture of Dad in jail with Paul. He said they met in their cellblock, and the police believe Dad is working with Paul on the con.”

“What? No…” Kim sank onto the bed, and shook her head in denial. “That’s not true. It can’t be.”

“He said they’ve been watching dad for years. That he had an alias, Sebastian Zuckerman and Harvey Tuckman.”

“There has to be a mistake,” Kim said in a raw whisper.

“He didn’t tell you about his relationship to Paul?”

“No,” Kim said. “Honestly Marci, he just told me to warn you about Paul.”

Kim looked down at her knotted hands. “But I couldn’t…I didn’t want to mess up your day.”

Right. It had gone so well.

Still, the hurt was still too raw. She imagined her father huddling with Kim, the two of them talking about how irresponsible she was…

The bone deep ache inside Marci spiraled out of control. “I guess you and Dad had a nice talk about how stupid I am,” Marci muttered miserably.

Unable to stay in the room a minute longer, she turned and ran outside. She had to call Paul, convince him to meet her again, that she loved him.

Lie through her teeth so she could find out the truth about her father.

She slammed the front door on her way out, stumbling as tears blurred her eye.

But just as she reached for her door handle, a man grabbed her.

“Get in the car, Miss Turner.”

“Marci!” Kim shouted.

The man slammed the butt of the gun against her head, then threw her into a black sedan.

Kim’s scream echoed behind her as the world twirled, and she fell into the darkness.

*~*~*~*

Cade gritted his teeth as Georgia burst into laughter.

“I knew it,” Georgia muttered. “You screwed her. And you screwed up the case.”

Cade grunted.  “Just uncuff me and save the lecture.”

“What happened?” Georgia jammed the key into the lock and twisted it. “She like it kinky?”

“Very funny.” Cade shoved himself off the bed and grabbed his shirt. “I confronted her about that picture of her and Sebastian Zuckerman.”

Georgia arched a brow. “So she ran because you nailed her?”

Cade didn’t miss the double entendre. “Not exactly.”

Georgia retrieved her phone from the pocket of her blazer. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could put an APB out on her?”

“Because the woman in the picture wasn’t her; it was her twin.”

Georgia crossed her arms. “Really? Now the sweet twin is in on it, too?”

“I don’t think so,” Cade said, yanking on his socks and shoes.

“But we have the sister meeting with Pendergrass’s partner?”

“The man in that photo’s name isn’t Sebastian Zuckerman,” Cade said.

“And we haven’t established that they are partners.” He hoped to hell they weren’t or things would get a whole lot more complicated for Marci.

Georgia looked confused. “But we will.”

“Maybe.” Hell, if he knew.  “The thing is – his real name is Samuel Turner. He’s Marci and Kim’s father.”

“Jesus, this gets better and better. They’re all in it together.”

The look of pain in Marci’s eyes taunted him. “I don’t know what’s going on, Georgia, but I don’t think we have the whole story. Marci claims she hadn’t seen her father in years, and she was genuinely surprised that Kim had.” He grabbed his phone to call Marci.  “She was also shocked that her father knew Pendergrass.”

He was just about to punch Marci’s number when his cell phone jangled. He checked the caller ID display hoping it was Marci.

But the display read Kimberly McDane.

“Who is it?” Georgia asked.

“Marci’s sister.” He punched connect.  “Detective Muller speaking.”

“Detective, it’s Kim, you have to help.”

His chest clenched at the panic in her voice. “What’s wrong? Is Marci with you?”

“No, she came by, and she was upset, then she ran out of the house, so I tried to catch her, but this man…” her voice cracked on a sob.

Sweat trickled down his neck. “What happened?”

“He had a gun, and he hit her over the head, then he put her in his car and took off.”

Cade squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach sinking.

He had to find Marci.

*~*~*~*

Marci stirred, her head throbbing as she twisted to see where she was, but it was dark and her vision was blurry. She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind was foggy.

Slowly memories flooded her. The wonderful night with Cade.

The horrible morning after.

Yep, as far as morning-afters, this one topped the worst list – last year, when she’d woken in Vegas in the back of a hippie van with a guy who thought he was a zombie.

Pinpricks of light seeped through the faded sheers as she glanced around, and realized she was in a hotel room. The neon sign outside blinked pink letters, and the blare of trucks whizzing past and horns echoed from the road nearby, shaking the room.

She blinked to adjust her eyes, another sharp reality hitting her. She was tied to a chair.

The sound of footsteps shuffling made her head jerk toward the door, then the door opened and the monster who’d hit her walked in.

Fury mounted on top of the fear crowding her chest. Odd, this monster was dressed in a blue shirt and gray slacks. He was big but not as tall as Cade, had shaggy  hair with flecks of gray and a mole on his forehead.

“So, the little princess is awake?” he said with a chuckle.

Marci glared at him. “Why have you been trying to kill me?”

He put the paper sack down on the cheap dresser, and she realized he had coffee and doughnuts.  “I haven’t been trying to kill you.”

“You shot at me,” she said, fidgeting with the ropes binding her hands behind her back.

He took a sip of coffee then sat down on the edge of the bed. “I was trying to scare you off so I could catch Pendergrass. That asshole was my target.”

“What?  He stole money from you, too?” Marci asked.

He shrugged. “Not exactly. I’m working for someone else.”

“Who?”

“You ask too many damn questions, Marci.”

Marci twisted in the hard chair. “Are you going to shoot me now?”

“I might if you don’t stop talking.”

She clamped her mouth shut then glanced around the room, searching for an escape. There was only one door in, one door out.

Marci wigged, rocking the chair. “I have to pee.”

He made a sound of disgust. “Good try. There’s no window in there.”

Shoot.  “My feet are falling asleep,” Marci said. “I need to get up and stretch.”

“And I need a fucking blow job,” he growled.

She stiffened. He didn’t expect her to offer, did he?

Nerves fluttered in her belly, and she realized she really did have to pee.

“Please,” she said. “You don’t want me to wet the floor, do you?”

He took another sip of his coffee, then stood with a huff. “You are such a pain in the ass. I can see why Pendergrass ran off without you.”

Marci felt like she’d been slapped. “You’re one to talk. You’re nothing but a loser kidnapper.”

He raised his hand to slap her, and Marci reared back, then his phone buzzed and he dropped his hand.  “Don’t make a sound.”

She chewed her bottom lip while he stepped outside to answer the call. Desperate to find a way out, she scanned the room for a weapon or a pair of scissors.

Zilch.

Maybe there was a plastic knife in the bag with the doughnuts. She tried to scoot the chair forward, but her bound hands and feet made it difficult. The chair teetered once, twice, and she caught herself with her foot and steadied the chair.

Then she started all over, slowly moving her body to make the chair inch toward the bag, but she pushed too hard and the chair fell forward.

Her face hit the floor and she tasted dirt and cheap carpet.  She spit out the dirt and struggled to roll to the side, but the door swung open.

“Jesus, lady, you’re going to drive me crazy.” He lumbered forward, jerked the chair back up to a sitting position, then planted himself in front of her, face to face.

“Listen to me and listen good. I need you to make a phone call to your fiancé and persuade him to meet you again.”

“Perfect,” Marci said. “I was planning to do that anyway.”

“You were going to run off with him?”

Marci hedged. She had no idea whether to tell this goon the truth or not.  “That’s none of your business.”

He raised the gun, the shiny metal glinting in front of her. “I’m making it my business.”

She forced a bravado to her voice. “I was going to ask him to meet me then let the police know.”

A smirk crossed his face.  “Now that’s better. Cooperate with me, Marci, and this will soon be over.”

What did he mean by that?

It would be over?  She would be over?

Was he going to off her once she helped him find Paul?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cade punched Marci’s number for the tenth time as he drove to Kim’s.

When he and Georgia arrived, Kim was frantic, and her husband was trying to console her.

“This is all my fault,” Kim cried.  “I should have told her about Dad calling, but I had to see what he wanted first.”

“What did he want?” Cade asked.

“To warn her to stay away from Pendergrass,” Kim said.

Georgia exchanged a look with Cade. He knew what she was thinking. That he didn’t want Marci to find out they were both crooks.

“Why didn’t he call Marci about Pendergrass?” Cade asked.

“Because I’m the practical one.” Kim paced the length of her den. “Marci’s more emotional, so tenderhearted, and she took Daddy leaving so hard that I think he was afraid to face her.”

“It was just as much my fault as yours,” he told Kim. “I…handled things poorly.”

Georgia shot her a sharp look as if to say that was an understatement.

“But I’m her sister,” Kim said. “I was supposed to protect her, take care of her.”

He was the one who was supposed to protect her.

Austin rubbed his wife’s back. “It’s not your fault, Kimmie. Marci’s impetuous and acts out of her heart.”

And he had broken it as badly as Pendergrass.

“But she trusted me,” Kim wailed.

“She trusted me, too,” Cade said, self-loathing consuming him.

Georgia pressed her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle. Kim startled, but stopped sobbing, and he jerked his head toward her.

“Enough,” Georgia said. “This is all very touching. But it’s not helping find Marci or Pendergrass.”

Cade snapped back to professional mode. She was right. “Georgia, check and see if the tech team has picked up anything on Marci’s cellphone.”

She nodded and stepped in the kitchen to make the call.

Cade raked his hand through his hair. “Kim, can you give me a description of the man who took Marci?”

Kim visibly tried to pull herself together. “I didn’t get a good look but he was medium height, a little beefy. Dark hair, sort of shaggy.”

“Did he have any distinguishing marks? A tattoo or scar?”

Kim massaged her temple, her brows puckered. “Oh, yeah. He had a mole in the middle of his forehead.”

Cade nodded. “Good. What about the vehicle he was driving?”

“A black sedan,” Kim said, wiping at her eyes.

“Two door or four?”

She had to think a minute. “Four. And the windows were tinted.”

“Did you get the make or year?”

She scrunched her nose. “No. I’m sorry, it happened so fast, and I was scared.”

Austin squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll find her.”

“But what if he hurts her?” Panic flared in Kim’s eyes.

“Don’t think like that,” Austin said. “This guy might just be another distraught victim of Pendergrass’s scam who wants his money back.”

Yeah, and he intended to use Marci as bait. Cade didn’t like that fact.

Kim’s chin wobbled, reminding him of her sister and making his gut twist with worry.

What was the man doing to Marci now?

Kim clutched her husband’s arm. “But he had a gun and he hit Marci over the head and …”

“Shh,” Austin said softly, pulling her back down to sit on the sofa.  “The police are going to find her, won’t you, Detective?”

“Yes, we will,” he promised.  He just hoped she was alive when they did.

Footsteps clattered, and Georgia appeared in the threshold of the doorway.  “The tech team is working on that trace now.”

“Kim just gave me a description of the man who took Marci.”  Cade angled his head to Georgia. “Why don’t you go with her and Mr. McDane to the station so she can look at some mug shots?”

Kim stood. “Yes, I can do that. Anything to help.”

Cade’s cell phone trilled, and he jerked it up. “Detective Muller.”

“It’s Taylor Cartwright in the tech department. We have a trace on Marci Turner’s phone. She’s on the move.”

Cade motioned to Georgia. “Give me the coordinates. I’m on my way.”

He motioned to Georgia to accompany Kim and her husband then he raced toward his car.

He had to save Marci.

*~*~*~*

Marci forced air through her lungs, readjusting her eyes to the new location. They were in a wooded area, a cabin on Lake Lanier. The smell of honeysuckle surrounded her, the swish of water against the bank so familiar that a pang of nostalgia washed over her.

The thug who’d kidnapped her had blindfolded her on the ride, but she’d recognized the location as soon as he’d dragged her from the car. She and Kim had skipped school during the winter to cruise with their friends around the rental properties and campsites, helped their mother decorate her cabin for Christmas with garland and peppermint sticks, spent summers skiing on the lake and having picnics, swimming at the beach at Lake Lanier Islands, trying to catch the boy’s attention as they sunbathed in their bikinis.

Well, she had tried to attract boys.

Kim had skipped some of the fun to study for the SAT’s.

No wonder her sister was happily married to a great guy, and she was tied up at gunpoint, had been arrested for her part in a con game and was …still sore from making love all night to the man who’d arrested her.

Because she’d always acted on her hormones.

The goon who’d kidnapped her checked the locks, then shoved her onto the leather sofa and glared at her as he punched Paul’s number. “Time to get this show on the road.”

She stared at that nasty mole on his forehead. “You should get that checked. It could be a melanoma.”

He jerked her chin, his rancid breath bathing her face.  “You should keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.”

The moron had no idea who he’d kidnapped -- she’d never kept her mouth shut or obeyed anyone in her life.

“Or you’ll do what? Kill me?” Marci said, fidgeting with the ropes. “What good will that do you?”

He growled an obscenity. “At the moment it might give me pleasure.”

The ropes cut into her wrists. Drat. Now she’d made him mad. Maybe she should curb her comments. She didn’t want to end up dead on a slab in the morgue.

For heavens’ sake, she didn’t even have a will. Not that she had anything to pass on. But she needed to include directions for her hair and make-up at her funeral. She refused to be caught looking a fright with her roots showing and her eyebrows unwaxed when her friends came to say their final good-byes.

Probably a lame thing to be thinking right now, but she had to distract herself from the fact that this might be the end for her.

That she might never see her sister again.

Regret mushroomed inside her…she’d left mad, had screamed at Kim…

The goon shoved the phone at her. “Here, call your honey now.”

Her hands had gone numb from being tied up, so she stretched her fingers to regain some feeling in the appendages. He’d already located Paul’s number so she simply had to hit call back. The phone rang five times then went to voice mail. Marci started to leave a message, but her kidnapper tapped redial.

“I told you, he’s done with me,” she said as they both listened to the phone ring again.

He glared at her. “We’ll keep trying until he answers.”

She flinched as he pressed the phone to her ear. Five more times and voice mail again. Marci was starting to feel nauseated from the goon’s sweaty odor.

“He probably threw his phone away,” Marci said.

The goon paced the room and punched the number again. Marci twisted her hands, desperate to untie herself. Then maybe she could hit the guy over the head and run…

On the next go around, Paul finally answered in a shout and the man shoved the phone to Marci’s ear, “Why are you calling me, Marci? To sic the police on me again?”

“Don’t hang up, Paul –”

“Why the hell not? The police are probably tracing the call.”

“Then we’ll talk fast,” Marci cried.  “One of your buddies kidnapped me.”

“Good try, babe, but I’m no fool.”

“I’m not kidding!” Marci screeched.  “He’s holding a gun on me right now.”

“Yeah, right.”

Then the line went dead. Damn him to hell. He’d hung up on her!

Marci wanted to scream. The buffoon with the gun cursed, then punched the number again.  Marci held her breath, praying Paul would answer.

She heard his loud bellow when he did. “Stop fucking calling me –”

“Your girlfriend isn’t lying, Pendergrass,” the man bellowed.

Paul heaved for a breath.  “Who is this?”

“I work with your buddy Sebastian.”

A tense moment, then Paul muttered, “Shit.”

“He’s not happy that you haven’t contacted him,” the goon said. “But you can make it up to him by meeting us at the lake house.”

Another tense heartbeat passed. “You have Marci?”

“Yes. And if you don’t meet us, you’re going to pay.” The man lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. “And Sebastian isn’t talking about the money you owe him.”

Marci’s throat closed. Dear God. They were talking about her father. Was it true? He and Paul were working together?

*~*~*~*

Cade dialed Georgia. “We just tapped into the call. Marci’s being held at a lake house. Pendergrass is supposed to meet them there.”

“I’ll do a search for property owned by Pendergrass and his aliases.”

“Try Sebastian’s as well.”

“Okay. Kim’s looking at mug shots now.”

“Ask her if she knows anything about a lake house,” Cade said.

“I’ll put her on the phone.”

Rustling sounded then Kim answered. “Detective Strait said Marci’s at a lake house?”

“Yes,” Cade said. “Does that ring a bell?”

“My mother owned a cabin on Lake Lanier,” Kim said. “We used to spend the holidays there.”

“Where exactly is it?”

“I’ll text you the address,” Kim said. “Although I thought Mom had sold it.”

“Send it to me anyway and I’ll check it out while Georgia searches for other vacant properties where they might be.”

A second later, the text came through, and Cade swung his car around and sped down the interstate. Lake Lanier was at least a good forty-five minutes away.

Anything could happen to Marci in that time.

He gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he raced from the expressway, then turned off onto Peachtree Industrial Boulevard. Several more miles and he turned onto another road that was two-lanes. He flipped on his siren and sped around a truck, noting a couple of boating shops, a new subdivision being built boasting about the amenities, and a bait shop.

Finally he swung onto the graveled road marked by his GPS, weaving around the curves until he finally reached the cabin. It was tucked back into the woods, shrouded in trees with a specular view of the lake.

He noticed a dark sedan parked beneath a cluster of trees, half hidden by the leaves.  That had to be it.

He passed the drive, then drove a quarter of a mile and parked in a loading and unloading area for boats, well out of sight so as not to alert Pendergrass or Sebastian if he showed up.  Pulse clamoring, he pulled his gun, slipped from his vehicle, and sneaked back through the woods toward the cabin.

The sound of a boat puttering caught his attention, and he glanced toward it, wondering if Pendergrass had chosen it again so as to make his escape easier.

He hid behind a giant oak near the edge, his suspicions confirmed as Pendergrass guided the boat up to the dock, tied it and climbed out. The weasel of a man looked nervous, fidgeting as he made his way up to the cabin.

He should be nervous. Cade was about to nail his ass to the wall.

He waited until Pendergrass reached the cabin, then he inched up to the back window to see what was going on. Marci was tied to a chair in the living area by a stone fireplace that probably made the room cozy in the winter. But nothing about this scene was cozy or inviting.

Tension crackled in the air as Pendergrass entered the room. The man holding Marci waved his gun at Pendergrass while Marci made a soft sound in her throat.

“You came,” the goon muttered as he gestured for Pendergrass to lift his arms so he could search him for a gun.

When he finished frisking him, the man ordered Pendergrass to sit down. Then the other man mumbled something, and Cade strained to hear.

Marci shifted in the chair, her hands working behind her back as if she was trying to free herself. “Paul, what’s going on between you and my father?”

Paul jerked his head toward her. “So you finally caught on?”

“Caught onto what?” Marci’s eyes widened. “That he’s a crook, too?”

Paul’s thin lips snarled. “You really are as dumb as you look, Marci.” He walked over and lifted a strand of her hair.  “The only reason I dated you was insurance against your father.”

“You thought he wouldn’t betray you if you were seeing me?” Marci laughed sarcastically. “That was your first mistake, Paul. My father could care less about me.”

Fury railed through Cade, and he barely contained himself from rushing in and killing the jerk.

“Sebastian will be here any minute,” the man with the gun said. “Then you have your little family reunion and settle this.”

Cade debated on waiting on Sebastian, but decided he was already outnumbered, so he texted Georgia that he needed back-up, then raised his gun at the ready and slipped around to the side entrance. He jiggled the door, then eased it open and crept down the hall.

Tension vibrated through him as he stepped into the room and aimed the gun at Marci’s kidnapper.  Pendergrass jumped up from the sofa as if to run.

“Put down the gun.”  Barely holding onto his control, he gestured toward Pendergrass. “I’ve had it with you. Run and you’re a dead man.”

Pendergrass’s face paled, and he crouched away from Marci, plastering himself against the wall as if his legs might fold beneath him.

“Cade?” Marci said in a raw whisper.

“Shit,” the man with the gun said into a microphone on his collar.

“Police. Put the gun down,” Cade ordered, keeping one eye on Pendergrass and the other on the kidnapper.

The man slowly placed his gun on the oak coffee table, then raised his hands. “Listen, it’s not what you think – ”

Cade’s fingers tightened around the barrel of his weapon. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder and no telling what other charges I find when I finish connecting you to Pendergrass.”

“Don’t shoot, Detective. I can explain.”

“Save it for your lawyer.” Cade glanced at Marci. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

Marci shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want out of here.” She gestured behind her at the ropes then at her ankles.

Cade moved closer to the goon and handcuffed him then motioned for him and Pendergrass to take the sofa. When they sank onto it, he walked over to Marci to untie her.

But footsteps sounded, and suddenly Cade felt another presence in the room.

Georgia?

No…not Georgia.

Sebastian stepped into the room, his hand waving a Glock at all of them.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Marci’s throat clogged with emotions. “Dad?”

Her father’s mouth thinned into a grimace. “I’ll take Pendergrass.”

Cade glared at her father, his own gun raised.  “No way I can let you do that, Sebastian. He’s in my custody. I have to arrest you, too.”

“That’s not going to happen,” her father said stiffly.

Marci still couldn’t believe her eyes. Her father was here.

And he was not only a crook, but he was holding a gun on Cade.

“Now put down your weapon, Detective Muller, and we’ll sort this out.”

“There’s no sorting,” Cade said. “Pendergrass is a con artist. He used your daughter in his scheme. And this man kidnapped her. They’re both going to jail.”

“You’re right about Pendergrass, but Woody here works for me.”

“You hired someone to kidnap me?” Marci said, shocked.

Her father gave her a feeble but pleading look as if he knew he was in hot water and deserved it. “Honey, let me explain.”

“How can you explain?” Marci cried.   “You deserted me and Kim and mom.” She gestured around her. “And now this?”

Anger flickered in her father’s eyes, and he walked over, lifted her hair and studied the bruise the kidnapper had caused when he’d knocked her unconscious. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, everything’s going to be all right.” His footsteps clicked as he strode over to the goon who’d kidnapped her and punched him in the face. “I told you not to hurt her.”

Marci’s heart ached. Dear God. Her father had hired the man who’d abducted her and scared her senseless.

“Dad,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

Cade cleared his throat. “Sebastian, put down the gun and step away from Marci.”

But her father kept the gun trained as he untied Marci’s wrists. She shook her hands free, then leaned over and quickly unraveled the knots around her feet.

Suddenly Paul started to run, but Cade tackled him, and they fought on the floor. Paul screeched and bellowed as Cade flipped him face down, straddled him and slapped handcuffs on him.

Marci’s legs wobbled shakily as she stood. “Please, daddy, don’t hurt Cade.”

“You need to listen,” he said.

“Daddy, please, put down the gun,” Marci said. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

His face crumpled with emotions, and he lowered his weapon. Cade rushed toward him, then ordered him to take a seat on the couch beside her kidnapper.

Cade’s partner raced into the room, took one look at Pendergrass lying on the floor wailing like a baby, then at her father who’d folded his hands, his jaw angry.

“It looks like you have everything under control,” Georgia said as she accessed the situation.

“We just need to haul them into lock-up,” Cade said.

Georgia shook her head. “Sorry, Muller, but we have to let Sebastian go.”

“What?” Cade swung his gaze up toward Georgia. “Why the hell would we do that?”

“I told you to let me explain.” Her father reached inside his jacket, and Marci froze, terrified he was going to pull another gun.

But instead he flashed a badge. “I work for the CIA. I’ve been tracking Pendergrass for over two years now.”

Marci gaped at him. “You…what?”

“You can’t be serious,” Cade muttered.

“He is,” Georgia said. “I just got off the phone with the captain.”

“But you were in jail with Paul,” Marci said, her voice full of accusations.

“I was undercover,” her father said, his face pinched. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t tell you, Marci.”

Tell her? She hadn’t seen or talked to him in years? Why would she have expected differently?

“I’ve been working undercover for two years tracking this jerk.” He shoved the ID at Cade.  “He started his scams in Europe before he came to the states. Stole some pretty pricey artwork before he turned to real estate.”

Paul stirred, fighting against the handcuffs. “You played me,” he screeched.

Her father walked over and jerked Paul by the collar. “How does it feel to be conned, Mr. Podinsky?”

“And me?” Marci shouted. “What about me, Dad? You hired that man to shoot at me.”

Her father crossed the room to her.  “He was just supposed to watch you, to scare you away from Pendergrass.”

“He kidnapped me,” Marci cried.

“I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.” He reached out to stroke her cheek but Marci jerked her face away.

She just wanted to go home and be alone. Every man in the room had lied to her, used her, hurt her…

She was done with all of them.

*~*~*~*

Cade wanted to comfort Marci, but he was still reeling from the turn of events. Her father’s shocking declaration made him furious. So like the feds and CIA to leave the local police in the dark.

And that asshole who’d shot at Marci and then kidnapped her – it was probably a good thing Marci’s father had knocked him unconscious or he might have killed the creep himself.

At least he could take pleasure in the pantywaist Pendergrass who was moaning and whining that he had been set up. Same old story.

“We have enough to hang him,” Sebastian told him.

Cade cut him a cold look. “You should have let me know what was going on.”

“You shouldn’t have slept with my daughter.”

Cade’s stomach twisted.  Marci’s father was right.  He had crossed the line.

And Marci had been hurt in the process. Still, it infuriated him that the man had had eyes on him.  “You were watching? You had cameras?”

Marci must have overheard because she paled one minute, then looked as if she was going to spit nails at them the next.

“I was trying to protect my daughter.”

Marci rubbed at her wrists as she stood.  “You gave up that right the day you walked out on me, Dad.”

*~*~*~*

Cade watched Marci turn her back on her father and him, and knew he’d royally messed up. He gestured toward Samuel Turner’s cohort.

“What do we do about this guy?” he asked Marci’s father.

“Uncuff him.” His jaw tightened. “But don’t worry. He’ll pay for how he treated my daughter.”

He heard the message loud and clear.

He would pay, too.

Only Marci’s father didn’t have to punish him. Just seeing the look of anguish in Marci’s eyes was bad enough.

Marci turned to Georgia. “Please take me home.”

“I’m sorry, Marci,” Georgia said. “We have to go to the station first. We’ll need your official statement for the records.”

“Kim is waiting for you there, too,” Cade added, although Marci refused to look at him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her waist as if she needed to hold herself together.

She nodded, resigned, and Marci’s father uncuffed his partner, then slapped his face. “Wake up, you creep.”

The man slowly stirred, moaning as he rubbed his head.

“Get up,” Turner said. “It’s over.”

The progression outside was tense. Marci clung to Georgia as if she was her new best friend. Turner drove his hired gun while he shoved Pendergrass in his car and followed.

By the time they arrived at the station, Pendergrass had lapsed into a sullen silence.

Kim rushed toward Marci and dragged her into a hug. “I was so worried about you, sis. Are you okay?”

Marci nodded, although she looked numb.

“Take Pendergrass to lockup,” Turner said to one of the officers. “Detective Muller, is there an office I can use to talk to my daughters?”

Cade gestured down the hall.  “Third door on the left.”

Marci folded her arms. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Yes, we do,” Turner said in a no-nonsense voice. “Now, please, girls, let’s go.”

“Why? So you can interrogate me some more?” Marci asked with a dry look.

This time Turner looked pained. “No, so I can explain.”

Kim took Marci’s arm. “Come on, sis, the least we can do is listen.”

Marci clamped her lips together, shot her father a hate-filled look, but followed Kim and her father into his office.

Cade wanted to go inside and stand beside her, to comfort her, to yell at her father for hurting her.

But he had hurt her, too.

So he remained rooted in place.

*~*~*~*

Marci’s emotions pinged all over the place. How many days and nights had she ached to have her father back in her life? To ask him where he’d been and why he’d abandoned them?

Why he hadn’t loved her enough to stay…

Knowing he’d come back and seen Kim and not her intensified the pain.

Kim sank onto the small loveseat in Cade’s office, but Marci folded her arms and leaned against his desk. Good heavens, his office smelled like him.

A hint of that minty aftershave he wore.

A hint of male sexuality that infuriated her all over again because she didn’t want to think about him.

Her father shifted, then paced the office.

“Dad?” Kim said.  “What’s going on?”

He glanced at Marci, then quickly explained about his position at the CIA. Kim looked as shocked as she had been.

Marci took small comfort in that. At least her sister hadn’t known that he was undercover and watching her.

Had her father thought she was guilty of helping Paul?

“I met Podinsky, the man you know as Paul Pendergrass, years ago,” her father said. “But we never could get anything on him so I went undercover. That’s why I was in the jail with him. I had to win his trust, make him think that we were working together.”

“When you called Kim, you thought I was helping Paul?” Marci asked, unable to hide the hurt in her tone.

Her father’s steely gaze met hers. “No. I…Somehow Pendergrass must have caught on to who I was. I think that’s why he …introduced himself to you.”

The shockwaves just kept coming.  “So he did use me to get back at you.”

A muscle jumped in her father’s cheek, and Marci couldn’t help but notice how much he’d aged. His hair was slightly gray at the temples, and age lines bracketed his mouth.

But his gray eyes were just as piercing.

“I’m sorry about that, Marci,” he said, his voice gruff.  “Anyway, I was just about to arrest Pendergrass when Muller stopped your wedding.”

“So you were there?” Marci said, her eyes widening.

Her father grimaced. “Yes. I fired at Pendergrass so he wouldn’t escape.”

Marci shook her head in disbelief.  “But you didn’t bother to come and talk to me ahead of time, to warn me…you let me go to the wedding and be blind sighted.”

Emotions clouded her father’s face.  “I’m sorry, Marci, I was too close to getting him –”

“I thought you wanted to explain why you left,” Kim said, her voice icy.

For the first time since they’d come into the office, Marci realized Kim was angry, too.

Their father stopped pacing and knelt in front of both of them. “I do. I…God, it was a long time ago, but I had my reasons.”

“Yeah, a family slowed you down,” Kim said.

“You obviously didn’t love us enough to stay,” Marci fired back.

He sucked in a breath as if she’d slapped him. “That’s not true. I did love you. In fact that’s the reason I left.”

A tense heartbeat passed.

Marci fidgeted, but Kim rubbed her belly. “What do you mean?”

Their father cleared his throat. “I was deep undercover back then, and had planned to testify against the leader of a mob ring. He threatened you girls and your mother.” He raked a hand over the back of his neck with a sigh.  “The only way to keep you safe was to cut ties. My work was too dangerous. I couldn’t have lived if anything had happened to you girls or your mother.”

Marci chewed her bottom lip. He sounded sincere, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kim asked.

He heaved a breath. “You were so little you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Does Mom know?” Marci asked.

He scrubbed his hand down his chin. “No, your mother would have tried to convince me not to leave.”

“Because she loved you,” Marci cried. She stabbed him with her finger. “But you broke her heart. You let all three of us think you didn’t care. That’s why Mom hates marriage and didn’t come to my wedding.”

True sorrow flickered in his expression.  “I’m sorry, Marci – ”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She cut him off.  “You’re a coward. If you’d really loved us, loved me, you would have come to me about Paul and told me the truth instead of going to Kim behind my back. You wouldn’t have hidden in the shadows at my wedding like that.”

Shaking with hurt, she stormed past him. Detective Strait was standing outside the room, and Marci went to her. “Will you take me home now? Please?”

The detective studied her for a moment, then nodded. Marci followed her out to her car. All she wanted to do was be alone.

And to forget about the men who’d torn out her heart and stomped on it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cade had been hunting down Pendergrass for so long that he’d thought seeing the con man behind bars would make him happy.

But knowing he’d caught him at Marci’s expense destroyed any semblance of pleasure.

Still, while she spoke with her father, he made sure Pendergrass was secure for the night. Then he raced back upstairs, hoping to catch Marci.

But Kim and her husband were waiting in his office and Marci was gone.   “Where is she?”

“Your partner drove her home,” Kim said.

“I need to go after her.” He started to leave but Turner caught his arm.

“Give her time, Detective Muller.”

“Like you did?” he asked sharply.

Turner winced.  “You’re right. What do I know?”

Kim wagged an accusatory finger in the air as Cade started to blast Marci’s father. “You’ve both treated her horribly, so leave her alone.” Kim took her husband’s hand. “Austin, let’s go.”

Her husband rubbed her shoulders. “Of course.” McDane frowned at Turner as if he had no idea what to say.

“I’ll be in touch, Kim,” her father said.

She gave him a non-committal look, then left with her husband.

With Kim out of the way, Turner turned to him, sparring for a fight. “You shouldn’t have screwed my daughter.”

“I didn’t screw her.” Cade balled his hands into fists. “I care about her.”

Turner arched a gray eyebrow. “Then what are you going to do about it?”

Cade had no idea.  “Make it up to her somehow.”

His mind ticked away the possibilities. The first thing he could do was to let people know Marci was innocent.

“I’m going to call a press conference now,” he said.

“Good idea,” Turner said.  “You handle it while I interrogate Pendergrass and find out where he stashed his victim’s money.”

“You don’t want to address the public?” Cade asked. “After all, this is your big bust.”

“No. I don’t want my face in the camera,” Turner said. “I got what I wanted. The man won’t be conning any more women. And he’s going to pay for hurting my daughter.”

Finally Cade felt like they were on the same side.

*~*~*~*

Tension vibrated in the silence as Detective Strait drove Marci to her apartment. When she pulled in, Marci turned to her with a sigh. “Thank you, Detective.”

“No problem.”

She reached for the door but the woman caught her arm. “Wait, I have something I want to say to you.”

“No need for an I-told-you so,” Marci said. “I know I’m stupid, that I should have seen that Paul was only using me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

Marci narrowed her eyes. “Oh, god, you still think I’m guilty.”

“That’s not it either.” The detective twitched, looking uncomfortable for a moment. “Actually I wanted to apologize. I was rough on you at the station when we first brought you in, and said some things that weren’t true.”

“Oh, they were true all right,” Marci conceded. “Only an idiot would have fallen for Paul’s lies.”

“You’re not an idiot, Marci, so stop beating yourself up,” she said. “You’re one of the sweetest, toughest women I’ve ever met.”

Marci shook herself. She had to be hearing wrong. “What?”

“It’s true. You only fell for Paul’s lies because you have a big heart and an innocence about you.” She hesitated, her voice contrite. “Sometimes I wish I still had that. But the job…it makes it hard to trust.”

“I can see how it would,” Marci said, thinking back over the last few days.

“But that’s not all,” the detective said. “I think I was jealous of you.”

“Of me?” A light clicked on in Marci’s head. “Oh, I get it. You have a thing for Cade.”

“No,” Detective Strait said with a chuckle. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it?”

A blush stained the woman’s cheeks. “It’s just that you’re pretty and kind, and I understand why people are drawn to you.” She reached out and squeezed Marci’s hand. “So don’t let what happened take that away from you. Don’t stop believing in the good in people.”

Marci studied her for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can believe anymore. Paul and Cade used me.”

“About Cade,” the detective said.  “I know you’re mad and hurt right now. But listen to me. Cade is a good cop, and he never ever gets involved with a suspect.”

“I know that now,” Marci said, “it was all an act.”

“I don’t think so. Cade has never done this before, never slept with a suspect or anyone he’s had in his protective custody.”

Marci let those words sink in. “What are you trying to say?”

“That he must really care about you,” Georgia said. “So…don’t give up on him.”

Marci wanted to believe her. But after they’d made love, he’d thrown that picture of her and her father at her.

“Thanks, Detective Strait. But I’m done with men.”  Marci shrugged, then touched the woman’s hair. “My offers for highlights still stands though.” She leaned closer to study the ends of Georgia’s dark hair. “You know, I’m thinking a few red streaks, or maybe blonde…”

Georgia shifted nervously, then smiled. “Actually I might take you up on that.”

“With a little clip here and there and some make-up, you won’t need a gun to subdue men.”

This time the detective laughed.

Marci brightened then climbed out and hurried up to her apartment. The moment she went inside, the stack of hate mail still piled in the corner drew her eye.

Sick at the sight of it and too exhausted and wired to sleep, she flipped on the television.

Her heart tripped in her chest though as a special news report flashed across the screen.

There stood Cade.

Unable to watch, she stabbed the button to cut it off, grabbed her purse and hurried to her car.

She couldn’t stay here tonight. She had to be with someone who’d understand.

Still hurt with Kim, she tried to remember Dottie’s address. She didn’t live too far away, just a few blocks. Yes, she needed a friend right now, especially since she’d lost them all when her story first aired.

Paul might be in jail, but the rest of the world still thought she was a criminal.

*~*~*~*

Cade hated being in front of the camera, but he’d suck it up for Marci. He just hoped she was watching.

Voices rumbled from the team of reporters who’d gathered in front of the police station. The bright lights of the cameras hurt his eyes, but he faced them anyway.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Detective Muller. As you know from previous reports that aired, we have been searching for a man named Paul Pendergrass who we believe ran a multi-million dollar con scheme across our city as well as other cities in the southeast. Tonight, we’re happy to announce that we have him in custody. During the next few days, we will be working to recover the money he stole and eventually hope to give restitution to his victims.”

“What about his accomplice?” one of the reporters asked.

A bald reporter waved. “Was his fiancé behind the scheme?”

Cade held up his hand to fend off the questions. “As a matter of fact, not only has Marci Turner, the young woman who was engaged to Mr. Pendergrass, been cleared of all charges, but she is the hero in this investigation. She was instrumental in helping police apprehend Mr. Pendergrass and should be commended for her actions.”

Leaving off on that note, he headed back inside the station.

Hopefully his statement would satisfy the press and help ease his way back into Marci’s good graces.

But as he drove home, he tried her number over and over and she didn’t answer.

*~*~*~*

Marci fell into Dottie’s open arms when Dottie opened the door. “Come on in, Honey, and tell me about it.”

The sumo guy from jail raised a brow from his perch on Dottie’s couch.

Marci started to back away. “Oh, no, I’m interrupting.”

“No, sweet thing,” Dottie grinned at sumo guy. “Charlie’s just here hanging out.”

Marci noted the open six-pack they were apparently sharing.

Charlie stood, took the bottle of wine from her, uncorked it then poured her a glass. “What happened, Marci? We saw the news.”

Tears leaked from Marci’s eyes as she poured out the horrible story of being kidnapped, then her father showing up and the revelation that he worked for the CIA.

“My god,” Dottie said. “That’s some kind of story.”

Charlie shook his bald head back and forth.  “We’re proud of you, Marci.”

“Proud of me?” Marci said as she drained her glass of wine. “I was a fool. Even my sister lied to me.”

“But you came out the hero,” Dottie said.

“Yeah, that cop said so on the news just a minute ago.”

Marci frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Dottie patted her back.  “At the press conference.”

She gulped back more tears. “I saw the report, but I couldn’t stand to look at him.”

Charlie chuckled, his belly shaking.  “Well, he must have it bad for you cause he told everyone you were the hero. That you were …what’d he say, Dot?”

“That she was instrumental in apprehending Pendergrass, and that you should be commended.”

Marci swallowed hard.  “He said that about me?”

Dottie and Charlie gave vigorous nods. “If you ask me, I think he’s got the hots for you, sugar,” Dottie said.

Marci poured herself another glass of wine and stared into it. Detective Strait’s words echoed in her head. She’d said the same thing.

But how could she believe anything Cade or any other man said?

She turned her glass up and drank it.  She couldn’t. She’d forget men and focus on getting her life back together.

First, she’d get a job so she could finish cosmetology school.

Then maybe she’d open her own salon. Dorothy and the other girls from the jail and Detective Strait could be her first customers.

Then she’d never need anyone else again.

*~*~*~*

Two weeks later

Cade was desperate. It had been two weeks since he’d seen or heard from Marci.

He’d never been a patient man, but this was driving him crazy.

Because he’d never been in love before.

He’d tried phoning her and driving by her apartment, but she’d either taken a trip or was staying with her sister.

Finally he decided to try Kim.  Of course she might be angry at him, too, but he didn’t care. He had to see Marci again.

When she answered, he almost lost his nerve. But the memory of Marci’s lips on his taunted him, and he spoke up.

“Kim, it’s Cade.”

“Cade?”

“Detective Muller,” he said.  “I’m looking for your sister.”

“So am I.” Kim’s voice warbled. “I’ve been calling and calling and she won’t return my calls.”

His stomach knotted. “Has she ever done this before?”

“No,” Kim cried. “I know she was upset with me about Dad, but I never thought she’d just run off and not speak to me again.”

A million different scenarios raced through his head. None of them good.

What if Pendergrass had allies? Someone who’d retaliated by coming after Marci?

Good God. She could be hurt…

“Detective Muller?”

“Please call me Cade.”

“Cade, what can I do? I wanted to report her missing, but Austin told me she was probably at a friend’s, that I had to give her time, but I’m worried. I called the restaurant where she worked, but no one has heard from her.”

“I’ll find her,” he said, his shoulders knotting with tension.

“You have to,” Kim said softly. “She’s not just my twin. She’s my best friend.”

Cade’s throat closed. He wished he could say that about his brother, but it wasn’t exactly true. “I’ll call you back when I have something.”

Frantic, he called the tech department and asked for a favor, a trace on Marci’s phone.

“I thought you cleared her,” the tech said.

“I did, but her sister says she hasn’t seen or heard from her since the night of the press conference, so I’m worried.”

“All right, I’ll run it now.”

He paced the office while he waited, his nerves on edge. Where in the world was   Marci?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Twenty minutes later, the tech phoned Cade back. “All right, I have a location.”

“Give me the address.”

She gave him the coordinates and he frowned. “It’s just a few blocks from where Marci lives.”

“Right. A woman named Dottie Mills lives in the house.”

Dottie?

Cade slapped his forehead. Dottie, the woman from the jail cell Marci had made friends with. Dammit, she’d been hiding out at her friend’s place while he’d been worried sick.

He was going to kill her.

He headed to the door, then stopped himself. What would happen if he barged in and confronted her?

Maybe not a good idea.

Instead, he punched Kim.  “I found her. She’s at a friend’s house nearby.”

“I have to see her,” Kim said, frantic. “She’s still upset with me. I have to make things right.”

He gave her the address. If she couldn’t forgive Kim, she sure as hell wasn’t ready to see him.

Maybe he’d let the sisters work things out first. Then he’d devise a plan to win Marci back.

He couldn’t go on without her.

*~*~*~*

Marci had been working at a salon near Dottie’s washing hair. The money wasn’t that great, but it would add to her resume, and at least she was learning on the job. The owner was a trendy stylist and let her watch while she did highlights and cuts.

She and Dottie had stretched out in the back yard on her deck with a pizza and a bottle of Merlot. Thanks to the shampoo and conditioner she’d gotten for her friend, her hair had transformed from peach fuzz to silky strands that were almost three inches long now.

Charlie claimed he hadn’t mind anyway. He liked bald.

Marci was glad her friend had found someone. He’d been like a big teddy bear, gushing over Dottie.

A knock sounded, and Dottie pushed her bulk up and lumbered to get it.

Marci stuffed a piece of pepperoni into her mouth, then nearly choked when she heard Kim’s voice. A second later, Dottie escorted her sister out to the patio.

Marci’s heart fluttered. She’d missed her sister more than she’d ever thought possible.

“I’ve been worried to death about you,” Kim began frantically.  “I thought one of Paul’s cronies might have gotten you.”

“Oh, geesh, Kim, I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, you should have,” Kim said angrily. “I haven’t been able to sleep I was so upset. For god’s sake, Marci, I’m your sister. You can’t do that to me.”

Marci’s chest swelled with regret as Kim rubbed her pregnant belly.  “I’m sorry, Kim, really.”

She stood and took her arm and helped her settle into a chair while Dottie rushed to get her sister some water. Charlie looked terrified and disappeared somewhere in the back yard.

Kim burst into tears.  “I’m sorry you’re mad at me, Marci,” Kim continued. “But we have to get past this. You’re my best friend. We made mud pies together and played dolls and had tea parties, and had pillow fights…” her voice broke as she blubbered on. “And we shared secrets about boys –”

“I’m sorry, too,” Marci said, battling her own tears. “I just hated that you and Dad talked about me behind my back. That you…thought I was so gullible and stupid –”

“I’ve never thought you were stupid.” Kim was sweating now, and accepted the water from Dottie.  “I just wanted to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Marci said stubbornly.  “I’m just sorry that this mess with Paul hurt your childcare center.”

“The funders are back,” Kim assured her. “But you’re more important than they are, sis. It’s always been us.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always been the responsible one,” Marci said, her guilt resurfacing.  “I…that’s why Dad came to you. You were always smart and did the right thing. You were the one they were  proud of.”

“Are you kidding?”  Kim shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “I had to do something to make mom love me, to get her attention,” Kim cried.  “You were always so much fun, the one she liked to hang with, the one she talked about because you were funny and lively and you liked to shop with her. I was always the boring one.”

Marci gaped at her. She’d never heard Kim talk like this. “I had to be fun and cut up to get noticed because I couldn’t live up to you.”

Dottie clapped her hands. “Good grief, you two. Just hug and make up.”

Marci glanced at Dottie then Kim. A second later, they fell into each other’s arms. “I’m sorry I made you be responsible,” Marci whispered.

Kim laughed through her tears. “And I’m sorry I made you be the fun one.”

*~*~*~*

Cade picked up a copy of Travel magazine that he’d just received, admiring the sailboat on the front. He’d always dreamed about sailing as a past time.

But he’d never had a past time, just is job.

And now his job – rather his devotion to it – was ruining his life.

Maybe if – no when – he got Marci back, they could take some time away, maybe a vacation, maybe start saving for a boat of their own.

Too antsy to look at the magazine though, he punched Kim’s number, grateful when she answered quickly.  “Is Marci all right?”

“Yes,” Kim said. “She’s going back to her own place tonight.”

“Good.” Then he’d send over some flowers.  Maybe that would soften her up.

“Cade?” Kim said.

“Yeah?”

“If you love her, don’t give up. She deserves someone who’ll treat her right.”

He certainly hadn’t done that.  But he would.

He just had to prove it to her now.

“Thanks, Kim. I’m just glad she’s safe.”

Kim hesitated, then hung up, and he called a local florist he’d used for a funeral for a colleague. He ordered red roses then remembered she’d had roses at her wedding, so changed the order and sent her lilies instead.

“What do you want on the card?” the florist asked.

“Just write ‘I’m sorry’, and sign it ‘Cade’.”

The florist agreed, and he disconnected then paced his office. Maybe he should have said more. Told her he loved her.

But he wanted to do that in person.

Hmmm… he’d never had to romance a woman before. Never tried to win one.

His analytical skills kicked in. If he wanted to get close to a suspect, he’d do it slowly. Keep at it until the person broke.

He’d take it slow with Marci. He wouldn’t pressure her. But each day from now on, he’d send her something special. A little reminder of him.

Something to make her think about that titillating night they’d spent together.

No, it couldn’t just be about sex. It had to be …romantic.

Only he suddenly felt lost, as if he’d traipsed into foreign territory.  He hadn’t been romantic in so long that he didn’t think he knew how…

*~*~*~*

Marci felt drained as she hurried to her apartment door. The vase of lilies sitting on the stoop made her heart ache.

But when she read the card, she frowned. “I’m sorry. Cade.”

Nothing more. Nothing to indicate he had feelings for her.

Just regret.

Hurt suffused her, and she unlocked the door. A mound of envelopes had been stuck under the door.

Good grief. More hate mail?

Would it ever stop?

She bent and began scooping it up, but one post card caught her eye and she flipped it over.

“Thank you so much for catching Pendergrass. God bless you.”

Marci rubbed her forehead, then dumped her purse on the table along with the letters.  She rushed back and returned the lilies, then sat them on the counter. But the note mocked her, and she tossed them in the trash.

Looking at them reminded her of Cade and the night they’d shared. She had a terrible feeling she was in love with the man.

But he was just…sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry he’d met her? Sorry she’d gotten in the middle of his case?

She grabbed her letter opener from the desk and slit open another envelope. Surprise flared inside her as she read.

“Thank you so much, for standing up to that scumbag Paul Pendergrass. You’re a brave girl. I heard you’re doing hair. Where do I call to get an appointment?”

She smiled and opened another.

“I finally got my money back and bought those Sunday teeth I told you about.”

Marci fondly remembered the woman whose only fantasy had been to have a great smile for her resort photo. She always tipped her in spite of the fact that her husband had lost his pension because of gambling, then Paul had struck and finagled her out of the rest of her savings.

Curious, she opened letter after letter, and was surprised to see they all shared the same sentiment. And she had dozens of requests for hairstyles.

A knock sounded at the door, and she figured it might be more mail, so she crossed the room and opened it.

Nana Muller stood on the other side.

Marci took a step back, instantly throwing up her hands to ward off a blow. The woman might be small, but she had a vicious right hook with her purse.

“I’m sorry for beating on you like a heathen,” Nana Muller said, raising her head so she stood almost five feet now.  “I hope this will make up for it.”

Still wary, Marci lowered her hands and took the envelope the woman thrust at her.  “What is it?”

“Just a little something me and the ladies at the garden club threw together.” Nana Muller patted the bun at the nape of her neck. “We thought you deserved a little something for helping us get our money back.”

“But I didn’t – ”

“Oh, sweetie,” Nana Muller said with a twinkle in her eye.  “My grandson told me everything, how you lured that dickwad Paul Pendergrass to the cabin to trap him. How brave you were to stand up to him.”

“But –”

“Don’t be modest, dear. He also mentioned that the evil man took your money, that he was supposed to pay for your cosmetology classes but he didn’t.”

“Well, no, he didn’t,” Marci admitted.

“There’s enough in there to cover that and also a start for your own shop.” Nana Muller gestured toward her hair.  “There’s a bunch of us that would like to be your customers.”

Marci smiled and hugged the woman, then promised she’d have free perms the rest of her life.

Nana pulled out a bottle of vodka and the two of them shared Bloody Marys, then Nana Muller called a cab to take her home. But not before they’d become bosom buddies.

Still, that night as Marci crawled into bed that night, she still had an empty hole in her heart.

A hole only having someone special in her life could fill.

She closed her eyes, but instead of an image of the man she’d planned to marry flashing in he mind, Cade’s face did.

The temptation to call him nagged at her, but she reminded herself that Cade didn’t love her.

That even if he was the man of her dreams, that she wasn’t the woman in his.

*~*~*~*

Cade had had enough. Ten days of phone calls and apology notes and nothing had worked. His thoughts, his days, his nights, even his dreams were obsessed with making Marci his.

Maybe she didn’t feel the same way about  him…

Even worse, Georgia had told him that she was going to the salon where Marci worked, so apparently Marci had forgiven Georgia for her part in the interrogation, even though Georgia had played bad cop.

Marci had also forgiven Kim as well and they were closer than ever.

But him? No, he was still on her shit list.

He had never been so damn desperate for a woman in his life. For God’s sake, he’d even asked the tech assistant to run Marci’s phone to verify that it was working, and of course, it was.

She just couldn’t bother to call him.

Dammit, he had to see her.

He knew it was wrong, but he sneaked a peek at Georgia’s calendar on her computer and looked at the name of the salon. A quick search on his IPhone and he had the address.

Since they’d closed the Pendergrass investigation, his schedule had been relatively slow, so he strode to his car and drove to the salon. At least if he got into trouble with Marci, he’d have back up.

The short drive to Decatur only made his anxiety mount. He almost lost his nerve, but he remembered the last few sleepless nights and summoned his courage.

He was a cop. He’d handled hardened criminals.

He could confront the woman he loved.

His lungs squeezed for air, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he parked and strode into the hair salon. The moment he entered, a hush fell across the room.

For a second, he thought he’d stepped into a senior’s retirement facility, but then Dottie boomed toward him with her arms crossed beneath those humongous breasts.  “Detective Muller?”

“I need to see Marci,” he said, sweat dripping down his back.

Dottie narrowed her eyes, and the sumo guy from the jail appeared behind her, his big cheeks bulging with his scowl. “You hurt that girl again, you deal with us.”

Cade swallowed hard. Had they forgotten he had the gun?

Then again they must care for Marci which endeared them to him in an odd kid of way and made him cut them some slack.

“Where is she?” he murmured.

Dottie raised her chubby hand and pointed, and he spotted Marci leaning over a woman fiddling with some aluminum foil things in her hair. Then he realized the woman getting with the space cadet look was Georgia.

Marci patted her shoulder. “A few more minutes, and you’re gonna look like dynamite!”

Cade took a deep breath, then reached for his handcuffs and strode over to Marci.

“Marci Turner?”

She spun around, her luscious lips parted in surprise. “Detective Muller?”

His handcuffs jangled as he captured her wrist between his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Marci asked haughtily

“Arresting you for being so stubborn,”  he said as he clamped one handcuff shut.

“What?”

“I’ve called you a million times and you’ve ignored me.”

The hiss of hairdryers paused, the sound of whispers and murmurs reverberating through the beauty parlor.

“What’s going on?” a little white-haired woman with shiny teeth asked.

Another one pointed at Cade. “Isn’t that that detective that ruined Marci’s wedding?”

More gasps. “Is he arresting her again?”

Georgia suddenly jerked her head out from the hairdryer, her eyes glittering with some kind of sparkly eye shadow. She looked …pretty. Not like the tough cop he knew. “Cade, what’s gong on?”

But she still had the same bite.

“I have to talk to Marci, and this time she’s going to listen.”

Marci shrieked as he closed the second handcuff around his own wrist, handcuffing her to him so she couldn’t escape.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Marci squealed and dug in her heels as Cade pulled her toward the back room. She had hoped and prayed and fantasized about seeing him again.

But this wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined it.

Georgia yanked up the top of the dryer. “What about my highlights? I don’t want it to turn orange!”

“Dottie!” Marci shouted.  “Take care of Georgia! The timer’s set.”

“I’ve got it, sugar.” Dottie yelled.

Marci’s heart stuttered. She was terrified to get her hopes up. “What are you doing, Cade? Did Paul escape or something?”

Cade halted by the supply closet, his eyes steaming as he backed her through the beaded curtain that served as a door.  “This has nothing to do with Pendergrass. It has to do with us.”

“Us?” Marci pursed her lips as her butt hit the stack of rollers on the shelf.

“Yes, us.” He traced a line along her jaw with one finger. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

Marci bit her lip. “I threw my phone away and got a new one.”

His eyes darkened. “Because you didn’t want to hear from me?”

Marci sighed, determined to stand her ground. But the scent of his aftershave wafted toward her, suffusing her with the need to kiss him again.

No, no, no… She could not be that weak.

“I…was trying to stand on my own,” she said. “To get my life together and prove I could be somebody.”

He studied her for a moment as if considering her statement, his breathing labored. “You don’t have anything to prove, Marci.”

Hurt welled inside her again. “Don’t I? You and Paul and my father made a laughingstock of me.”

“I never did that,” Cade said, although she saw the truth in his eyes and regret followed. “But I am sorry, Marci. I…didn’t know you then. But I do now.” He stroked her palm with his finger. “And I’m glad. If it hadn’t been for the case, I would never had had the chance to find out what a great person you are.”

“Or to get in my pants,” Marci said dryly.

He pressed a kiss against her throat. “Or to fall in love with you,” he murmured.

Marci’s lips parted, her breath whooshing out. “You –”

“I am in love with you,” he said, more firmly this time.  “And I want to marry you, Marci. That is, if you can forgive me.”

“For throwing me in jail?” she asked softly.

“For that and …everything else.”

Marci relaxed against him.  “Not all of it was bad, was it?”

He rubbed his foot up her thigh. “No, some of it was good.  Real good.” He dropped down to one knee, pulled out a velvet box and opened it.

A gorgeous diamond surrounded by light blue stones twinkled in the light. “Will you be my wife?”

Suddenly hushed whispers and noises echoed outside the beaded curtain, and Dottie and two other women poked their heads in. “Say yes!”

Marci laughed and looped her arms around Cade’s neck.

“Say yes,” Cade whispered.

“Yes,”  Marci said softly. “I love you, Cade, and I would love to be your wife.”

He slipped the ring on her finger, drew her closer, then kissed her as he swung her around in his arms.

Clapping and cheers erupted from the women in the salon.

Marci savored the kiss. She couldn’t wait to plan her wedding to Cade…then again, after the way they’d met, maybe they should just elope.

EPILOGUE

Marci fluffed her veil as Kim and her mother entered the bedroom doubling as the brides room.  She and Cade had discussed eloping, but they’d finally opted for a small intimate wedding.

This time around there was no country club, no society columnist there, just their friends and family in Kim’s backyard.

It was perfect.

Still, déjà vu struck Marci, but she banished any inkling of bad luck today.

Today was her dream wedding.

The past six months had been tough at times, but she had forgiven her father, and now he was walking her down the aisle.

“Dad is here?” she asked, a sliver of worry tugging at her. He’d said nothing could keep him from giving her away.

Although what if a big case came up?

“He’s here, honey.” Her mother hugged her, then touched the diamond necklace around her throat.  “That’s gorgeous.”

“It’s my something borrowed. It belongs to Nana Muller,” Marci said, a fondness for the woman in her heart.

“How are things between you and Dad, Mom?” Kim asked.  “Is it too awkward?”

Her mother’s eyes glittered with a smile. “Actually we were going to announce it after your wedding.”

“Announce what?” Marci asked.

“Your dad is retiring, and he and I are taking a trip together,” her mother said. “It’s not a proposal, but it’s a start.”

Kim squealed and the three of them hugged. Marci’s heart swelled with excitement. She’d never dreamed she could ever be so happy, much less have her parents reunite.

The sound of the guitar strumming echoed through the house signaling it was almost time for the bride to make her appearance.

When they pulled away, Kim checked herself in the mirror. “Good heavens, my face is so swollen. You could have waited till after the baby when I could fit into a real dress.”

Marci laughed. “You look beautiful, Kim,” she whispered.

Kim wiped at her eyes. “Thank God for waterproof mascara.”

Dottie ducked her head in. “You ladies ready?”

“Yes.” Her mother cupped Marci’s face in her hands. “Honey, I’m so proud of you. You’re not only beautiful on the outside, but you are on the inside, too.”

Marci started to cry again, but Kim gave her a warning look. “Not now. We need to go get you married, sis.”

Marci stepped into her heels as her mother hurried to be seated.

“Mom’s right. You’re stunning,” Kim said. “And I really like Cade. Even if he did arrest you once.”

Marci shuddered at the memory. That would be a story for their grandchildren one day.

Kim led the way down the steps to the backyard, and Marci followed her in her new wedding gown. The scooped-neck satin gown was much simpler than her other dress, but perfect for today and the man she was marrying.

The backyard looked elegant with fresh flowers around the gazebo, and lawn chairs draped with white bows. Dottie and Charlie were there, close to planning their own wedding at the barbeque hut they both loved, and the hookers from the jail waved from the back row. Thanks to her make-up tips, they didn’t even look like working girls today.

Several of her regular customers from the salon sat with Nana Muller, their hairdos complimentary of her staff. Ever since she’d opened, she’d run a special on Thursday for the over-sixty crowd. She’d even started a program to provide house calls for ladies who couldn’t make it in to the salon.

Guitar music played softly as she walked down the aisle toward Cade. He looked so handsome in his dark suit and tie that her pulse raced. She couldn’t wait for their honeymoon night.

His brother Mitchell stood beside him as best man, although Marci sensed some tension between them. But she refused to dwell on it today.

They could tackle that problem later.

Today she had her family and friends with her, and she was marrying the man she loved.

*~*~*~*

Cade smiled at Marci, his legs shaking. He couldn’t believe he was getting married.

And that his father and brother were here.

To say that things were strained would not be lying. But he had noticed Mitch giving Georgia a flirtatious eye at the rehearsal dinner.

What was that all about?

Then he forgot about family as Marci marched down the aisle. She was breathtaking.

And she was his.

He felt so lucky he thought he might bust.

Her father slanted him a sharp look though, and he willed his pulse to calm. He’d been terrified Turner wouldn’t approve of the marriage, and had taken Turner’s warning seriously – if he failed Marci, Turner would use his CIA connections to make him disappear.

Of course he hadn’t told Marci about that conversation.

She smiled, and he reached for her hand as she and her father approached. For a moment, her father hesitated as if he might change his mind and not give Marci to him, but Marci raised on her tiptoe, whispered something in his ear, then kissed his cheek, and he released her.

“Take care of her, Muller.”

Cade’s gaze met the man’s dark one, the warning received. “I will, Sir.”

Turner stepped back to sit with Kim, and the ceremony began. It turned out that the drunk in the tank with Charlie, a man named Lloyd, was actually a preacher, and now he’d joined AA, Marci had enlisted him to do the ceremony.

She was so kindhearted. Always helping others get back on their feet.

“Friends and family, we’re here to witness the wedding ceremony of Marci Turner and Cade Muller.”

His words blurred until the moment when he asked if anyone objected to the ceremony.

Déjà vu of him dragging Marci away from her wedding with Pendergrass flashed back.

She squeezed his hand so hard he thought his fingers cracked.

“So if no one objects – ”

“I…” Kim squealed.

He and Marci  startled and turned toward her sister. Surely Kim wasn’t going to stop the wedding.

“Kim?” Marci said.

Kim clutched her belly. “Never mind, I just had a contraction. I’m sure it’s just a Braxton Hicks.”

A murmur of panicked whispers rumbled through the room as Austin rushed to Kim. “Kim, Honey?”

Kim threw up her hand, the flowers trembling. “Go ahead. It’s probably a false alarm.”

Marci looked worried, but motioned for Lloyd to continue. “Cade Muller, do you take –

“Oww…” Kim squealed again.

“Oh, my god, Kim,” Marci whispered.

“Go on, marry them!” Kim shouted as Austin helped her to a chair.

The ceremony blurred as Kim had one contraction after another while they said their vows.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Lloyd said. “You may kiss the bride.”

Cade swept Marci into his arms and claimed her mouth with his. Passion drove him to take it deep, but suddenly Kim’s wail jolted them apart.

“My water just broke!” Kim shouted.

Cade glanced at Marci and knew what they had to do. “Get her into the squad car. Quick.”

He grabbed Marci’s hand, and they rushed toward the limo.

“Enjoy the party!” Marci shouted. “We’ll be back.”

Georgia jumped in the squad car to drive Austin and Kim while he and Marci slid into the limo and drank champagne on the way to the hospital.

“I can’t think of a better day than our wedding for my niece or nephew to be born,” Marci said as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

He agreed and swept her into his arms, then pulled the privacy divider down as the limo raced toward the hospital, and once again Marci’s guests enjoyed the reception without her.

*~*~*~*

Marci straightened her tousled wedding dress as the limo pulled up in front of the hospital. She and Cade had just consummated their marriage in the back of the car!

Exhilarated and happier than she’d ever been in her life, she clutched Cade’s hand as he helped her from the limo.

They raced in and saw Kim being wheeled to the labor room. Her parents ran in, both looking ragged and terrified and …thrilled.

“Sorry about the reception,” her mother said.

“It’s okay,” Marci said as she imagined her guests enjoying her champagne and food. Just like before.

Except this time she was happy and not in jail.

But then the pacing began.

They alternated staring at the clock, sipping coffee and playing a guessing game about the baby’s sex.

Finally at midnight, Austin appeared, his hair sticking out, his eyes wide with shock.

“Is everything okay?” Marci’s father asked.

Her mother grabbed Austin’s arm. “How’s Kim?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”  Marci cried.

Austin swayed on his feet and Cade caught him. “Man, are you all right?”

“It’s twins,” Austin said. “We have one of each.”

The room erupted into cheers and hugs and tears. Marci’s own happiness overflowed as they waited to see her sister and her babies.

“They’re going to need a fun aunt,” she whispered to Cade. “I mean I love my sister and her husband, but someone has to liven things up.”

“I agree,” Cade said.

With a nuzzle against her neck, he drew her into his arms and kissed her again, the promise of tomorrow and forever-after on his lips.

Other Books by Rita Herron

If you liked THERE GOES THE GROOM, then please write a review on Amazon! You can also contact Rita at www.ritaherron.com and follow her on facebook and twitter @ritaherron!

You also might like Rita's other sexy romantic comedies:

MARRY ME, MADDIE

A woman gives her boyfriend an ultimatum on a talk show — Marry Me or Move on! Then her brothers' best friend steps in and the battle for her hand begins!

SLEEPLESS IN SAVANNAH

A dating game switch leaves a man sleepless when the woman he wants ends up with another man!

I LOVE LUCY

All Lucy wants for the holidays is to be with her family and the man she loves — instead she's hiding out from a stalker in a sixties & up community!

HUSBAND HUNTING 101

A woman takes a class to find a husband!

HERE COMES THE BRIDE

A twin switch, a fake fiancé — a real wedding?

SINGLE AND SEARCHING

A woman places an ad to find a date, but the man who answers is an undercover cop who thinks she's a thief!

UNDER THE COVERS

A famous marriage counselor hires a man to play her husband when her real one leaves her for a man!

About the Author

Multi-published, award-winning author Rita Herron fell in love with books at the ripe age of eight when she read her first Trixie Belden mystery. She has sold over sixty novels, worked for several major publishers, and loves writing romantic comedies as well as spinning dark romantic suspense tales filled with murder and mayhem.

For more on Rita and her titles, visit her at www.ritaherron.com. You can also follow her on www.facebook.com/rita.herron and twitter @ritaherron.

Table of Contents

There Goes the Groom

Copyright Information

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Other Books by Rita Herron

About the Author