Run, Run, Runaway Bride

by Diamond, Jacqueline

  A man shouted, "You tell 'em!" and someone else called, "That goes double for me!" Other voices joined in.

  When the noise abated, Pete said, "And by the way, Mary Anne and I are getting married. You're all invited to the wedding, except for you, Ms. Bartholomew."

  He skimmed down the steps amid a burst of cheers, and caught Mary Anne in his arms.

  For once, she thought giddily, she must have said the right thing. And she hadn't even had Samantha to advise her.

  *

  When Samantha rejoined the crowd, she was pleased to find the mood defiant and almost exuberant.

  "She may win in court, but she'll lose, too," Beth explained after describing how the men had reacted to Beatrice's offer. "There'll be nothing much worth having beyond the bare land. Lew says they'll sell off the building supplies and trailers and keep the architect's plans, since those don’t belong to her. Redeveloping everything will cost a fortune and take years."

  "Revenge is sweet, but victory is better." Samantha tried in vain to spot Kieran among all the people.

  "Pete and Mary Anne are engaged," Beth added. "Maybe we can have a double wedding." Wistfully, she said, "But not here, I guess."

  The one person Samantha couldn't help seeing was Beatrice, because everyone had cleared a wide space around her. Unfazed by the animosity, the spiky figure helped herself to cheesecake as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.

  Or as if she owned the place. Which she almost did. Samantha remembered that Kieran's former fiancée had left him when times got tough. Although Samantha's own departure had been arranged weeks ago, she hated the timing. She’d be leaving Kieran alone, stripped of his work and his dreams.

  She had to help. Samantha tried to imagine what information the detective had uncovered. In the best of all possible worlds, it would turn out that Beatrice was an imposter, but surely Kieran had done his research.

  What else could it be?

  From the podium, Beth announced that the Hidden Hot Springs "Silly Olympics" were starting with a one-foot hopping relay. The people lined up with good spirit, and the games began.

  By the third zany contest, Samantha had located Kieran sitting on a rock overlooking the picnic area. His skin had darkened beneath his eyes, and his jaw was set tightly.

  She took a seat beside him. Below, burly workmen zigged and zagged as they scurried toward the finish line with water balloons clenched between chin and chest. Because of their larger busts, many of the women had an advantage in holding the balloons in place, and it was a rare man who wasn't penalized by a loud pop! and a huge slosh of water over his front.

  Kieran didn't crack a smile.

  Words, usually quick to spring to Samantha's tongue, failed her now. What could she say? That life was unfair, that Kieran shouldn't have invested so much of himself in a dream, that sometimes cheaters won?

  She wanted to trace the line of his cheekbone and smooth the anger from his soul. All she managed was, "I'm sorry, about everything."

  "I'm not giving up," he said.

  "But the court case won't be for months," she replied, puzzled. "I thought by then you'd be bankrupt."

  "Sooner or later I'll win the suit," Kieran said. "The banks will take the land, but that should clear our debts. I’ll start over, one way or another.”

  “Good for you.” Still, he’d lost so much.

  Below, the race had transitioned to a shoe mix-up game. Divided into groups of ten, the participants tossed their shoes into the middle of a circle, then competed to see who could get his or her feet into the right pair first.

  No one was trying very hard to win. Men minced around in ladies' sandals and women clomped cheerfully in oversize boots.

  Paying little attention to them, Samantha played her fingers through Kieran's hair, enjoying the hard curve of his head beneath the softness. He regarded her as if waking from a bad dream.

  "I wish—"Kieran paused at the sight of Alice and Mack marching toward them.

  "Treasure hunt!" Alice explained as she drew nearer. From a crevice in the rock, she produced a small plastic Donald Duck. "One for us!"

  Earlier, Beth had planted baubles all over the picnic area. There would be no peace for a while, Samantha saw.

  "Might as well join them," she said, and, without much enthusiasm, Kieran agreed.

  *

  He'd nearly said the one thing he'd sworn never to say. He'd nearly asked her to stay.

  He didn’t fear rejection. Hell, nobody liked to be turned down by the woman they loved, but if he didn't ask, he'd lose her for sure.

  Staring his bleak future in the face, Kieran had to concede that what mattered most wasn't the physical town but the people in it and the love that bound them together. Especially the love that had grown between him and Samantha.

  Or was he deluding himself? She’d never claimed to be a suffering-through-hard-times sort of person. And what did he have to offer besides debt, hard work and a years-long court battle?

  Below, summoned by Beth, the treasure-seekers drifted toward the dessert table. Kieran retrieved a tiger's-eye marble from a clump of bushes. Pocketing it, he kicked a rock out of his path, revealing a silver star underneath. He stuck that in his pocket, too. Thank goodness he didn’t come to the table entirely empty-handed, or empty-pocketed.

  Approaching the group, he noticed Alice and Mack arguing over whether a pigeon feather counted. Mary Anne and Pete were examining a rock crystal as if it were a spectacular find. Lew, who must be almost as upset as Kieran, watched with pride as Beth calmly brought order out of chaos, tallying the discoveries.

  Beatrice stood observing with a superior air. No doubt she enjoyed gloating. Or perhaps, in a weird way, she fancied herself part of the festivities.

  Yeah, the ugly part.

  Searching for Samantha, Kieran spotted her slim figure in red, white and blue hurrying toward town with a purposeful air. Curious, he trailed her.

  He lost sight briefly. Then, below on the road, her red sports car whipped by with Samantha at the wheel.

  What on earth was she up to?

  Chapter Seventeen

  As she sped toward the cabin, Samantha hoped Kieran hadn't noticed her departure. If she returned empty handed, she’d hate having to explain where she'd gone. He got so angry whenever she mentioned the detective.

  She rounded the bend, disappointed to see no one else had arrived. She'd allowed a little under two hours, in case he drove fast.

  Pulling over, she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. James Dunaway had to show up. He was her only hope.

  What kind of man was he? From his accent, she’d initially thought he might be Southern, but then it had disappeared. Unless she’d become so accustomed to it she failed to notice.

  Or was he faking?

  Suspicion jolted through her, yet how could James Dunaway be a fraud? Mrs. Gray at the district attorney's office had recommended him. Samantha had done her research, not picked a con man off the Internet.

  Her breathing slowed to normal. She was acting paranoid.

  In the heat of the day, she thought at first she was observing a dust whirl far down the highway. As it approached, she made out an older-model sedan with paint oxidized to an unappealing gray. Just what she would expect from a hardworking gumshoe.

  Slowing, the car had almost reached her before she got a look at the man behind the wheel. Thin face, shiny pate and an expression of cruel resolve.

  Hank.

  She must be hallucinating. How could Hank have found her? If he'd followed Alice and Mary Anne, he’d have arrived hours ago.

  That phony accent. The vaguely familiar timbre of his voice. There was only one plausible explanation: Hank Torrance had replaced James Dunaway. But how?

  More likely Hank Torrance was James Dunaway. And here she waited, alone and unguarded.

  Twisting the ignition key, Samantha shot her car into reverse, toward town. Hank sped past and skidded across the highway, blocking both lanes. He jumped out, gun in
hand.

  Samantha shifted into drive and stepped on the gas, her tires squealing in protest. As she surged forward, two shots rang out. The vehicle plunged ahead, rocked, then tilted dangerously to the right.

  The tire rims scraped the pavement and for a stomach-wrenching moment Samantha thought the car would flip. She fought to bring it under control.

  Finally it groaned to a halt. Stunned, she gasped for breath.

  Hank caught up. "Get out," he snarled.

  He was standing at the wrong angle for her to whack him with the door. Reluctantly, Samantha slid out. The car listed sharply, the two right tires blown.

  "Over there." The gun waved her to the side of the road as Hank leaned into her car. He fiddled with a switch and the driver's seat slid backward.

  Samantha glanced toward. The only shelter in sight was the old cabin.

  "Don't even think about it." Squatting, Hank leveled the gun at her. "Stay where you are and I might let you live."

  "How did you do it?" she demanded as his free hand dug under the seat. "How did you trick Mrs. Gray?"

  "Shut up." Hank tugged at something. Then, with a whoop, he jerked out a small, metallic item.

  A key. A key to what?

  A safe-deposit box.

  Sweat broke out on her forehead. He must have stashed the jewels, all except the ring, and hidden the key the night before the wedding. All this time, she'd been driving around with the key to Hank's safe-deposit box under her seat.

  Now there was only one thing between him and freedom—Samantha Avery, the only witness.

  Hank took aim. "We could have had a lot of fun," he said. "Too bad you got snoopy."

  A blur moving toward them from town caught Samantha's eye. A truck. Kieran's truck. Relief battled fear for his safety.

  Hank swung around as the pickup screeched to a halt. Kieran's startled gaze met hers through the windshield, and he jumped out.

  Samantha's heart sank when she saw his empty hands. "Go back!" she shouted. "He's armed!"

  Kieran dodged behind Hank's car. A shot roared through the air.

  "That's a warning!" Hank yelled. "Get over here or I'm plugging your wife."

  "Don't listen to him!" Samantha called. "He'll kill us both."

  Kieran leaned out and lobbed a rock at Hank, narrowly missing. "Samantha, run!" A second gunshot slammed into the hood as Kieran ducked for cover again.

  Samantha took off, despite the wobbliness in her knees. Instinctively, she headed for the old cabin, where she might be able to bolt the door and maybe, just maybe, get a cell signal. As she fled, she kept expecting to feel the sharp bite of a bullet. At least she could draw Hank's fire and give Kieran a chance to flee.

  Or rather, to attack. Kieran would never flee. No matter how great the danger, he’d stay and protect her. She knew that about him.

  And loved him for it.

  Footsteps thumped after her. Instead of firing, Hank was giving chase. Damn that rat, he was faster than her. What was he planning to do? By now, Kieran must be phoning for reinforcements.

  Hank's wiry body shoved her against the side of the cabin. “You’re coming with me.”

  “No!”

  "I need a hostage and you’re nominated,” he ground out, his gun pressed to her head.

  Samantha’s lungs ached from running and from sheer terror. A short distance away, Kieran halted. “Let her go. I won’t stop you from leaving as long as she’s okay.”

  "Stay back or I'll blow her away, man."

  "Just leave. You've got what you came for," Samantha said.

  “Not until I’m over the border.” He licked his lips. “I’ll be safe in Mexico.”

  “Not if you kill me!” She had no idea whether he could cross the border or what would happen if he did. She just had to hammer home that point that…

  A low growl broke into her frantic thoughts.

  She and Hank turned at the same time. Around the corner of the cabin padded the lion cub, its fangs bared. It had grown quite a bit these past few weeks. So had its teeth.

  The gun barrel wavered against her temple, but instead of releasing her, Hank pivoted and kicked the half-grown cat in the face. Its shrill scream broke the air and it scurried away.

  Kieran walked around Hank's car, into full view. "If you want a hostage, take me," he said. "Not Samantha."

  "Yeah, right." The gun shifted to target Kieran. "I'm not taking you anywhere."

  "You're not taking anybody anywhere!" Samantha grabbed his wrist. Kieran lunged, but before he reached them, Hank tore his arm from her grasp.

  "You're too much trouble," he said to Samantha, stepping back so he could cover them both. "You and your backwoods buckaroo are getting on my nerves. Goodbye, jerks."

  Hank was staring right at them, finger on the trigger, when his expression shifted from triumph to disbelief.

  The gun twitched, and Hank took a shaky step in reverse. Samantha was about to risk a peek over her shoulder when a roar thundered through her, as primitive and violent as an earthquake.

  With a leap, Kieran pushed her sideways and they both fell against the cabin. A full-grown mountain lion uncoiled past them, her huge sinewy body bristling with the fury of outraged motherhood.

  With an unearthly shriek, Hank fled. Kieran hauled Samantha into the cabin and slammed the door.

  The shivers started at her knees and traveled up to her jaw. If not for Kieran's grip, she might have fallen. I refuse to be a weakling. It’s just that…

  That she was human. And at precisely the right moment, her husband had been something more.

  "Thank God I followed you," he said. "I couldn't leave the woman I love when she might need me."

  Samantha hugged him, grateful for his loyalty, his kindness and his courage. “You were right about hiring a detective,” she murmured.

  “You hired your ex as a detective?”

  “Not on purpose.”

  From outside erupted a series of shots, and then she heard voices. Lots of voices. The townspeople had arrived. She hoped no one was hurt, except maybe Hank.

  "Can you walk?" Kieran asked. "I'd like to see what's going on."

  “Uh, sure.” Despite her trembling, curiosity propelled her into the sunshine.

  While a knot of people stood watch, Pete and Mack held onto Hank. Alice inspected claw scratches on his shoulder. "He needs to get this wound cleaned," she said.

  “Ow!” He let out a string of curse words. “Call the paramedics.”

  “What’s the rush? You’ll live,” Mack muttered. “Unfortunately.”

  Samantha saw no sign of the lion. Kieran hurried to snatch Hank’s gun from where it lay on the ground.

  “Did he shoot the cat?” she asked.

  “Nope. He ran out of bullets,” Mack told them.

  “Luckily, I didn’t.” The brittle voice belonged to Beatrice, who was stuffing a tiny gun into her purse. “Scared that nasty animal away. It had some gall, attacking people on my property.”

  “Yes. Imagine the nerve of that mountain lion,” Beth said from where she stood beside Lew.

  The sight of Hank writhing in pain, while highly satisfactory, reminded Samantha of his purpose here. "Where's the key?" she asked. "He has a safe-deposit key. It’s important evidence to a robbery."

  "Search him," Kieran ordered.

  Hank stiffened in protest as Pete shoved a hand into his pocket, then winced as he jostled his own shoulder. More curse words sullied the air.

  “There are ladies present,” Pete chastised, casting a fond glance at Mary Anne. She smiled back.

  Pete produced the key. "What's in the safe-deposit box?"

  "A million dollars in jewels and a ticket to prison," Samantha answered.

  "I understand he posed as a detective." Kieran’s frowned. “But wasn't he supposed to be locked up?"

  Suddenly the puzzle fell together. Mrs. Gray had lied about Hank's being in jail. Mrs. Gray had recommended James Dunaway. Mrs. Gray had had access to Samantha's address wh
en she lived in Del Mar, and Mrs. Gray could have tracked Samantha that day at the lawyer’s office through Joel Phillips's phone number. "I know who—"

  "You people have no right to hold me," Hank interrupted. "I'll sue."

  “Citizen’s arrest,” Pete told him.

  “This is my property,” Beatrice retorted. “I’ll decide who arrests who around here.”

  “It isn’t your property or your decision,” Kieran told her.

  "The arrestee is about to be taken off our hands.” Lew indicated the road, where a sheriff's patrol car was cruising toward them.

  It halted, spilling out two deputies. "What seems to be the trouble?" The older one squinted at them, his skin creased from exposure to the sun.

  Despite Hank’s protests, Samantha summed up the situation and urged them to call Deputy DA Enright for confirmation. "Don’t let Hank make any phone calls until you round up his accomplice. Her name is Mrs. Gray and she works at the DA’s office. That’s how he found me."

  Hank blanched. "Leave her out of this."

  "Who is she?" Samantha demanded.

  "My sister," he said. "She was just helping."

  "She nearly helped the two of us into an early grave," Kieran answered, and pointed out Hank’s gun, which he’d set on the ground. “He was about to shoot us when a mountain lion showed up.”

  While his partner retrieved the gun, the older deputy followed their gazes to the lion tracks in the dirt. “I see.”

  After securing Hank in the squad car, the deputies called for crime scene investigators and began taking witness statements. By the time they finished and departed with their prisoner, the afternoon was waning and most of the small crowd had gone back to town. Despite Samantha’s weariness, the prospect of all that evidence against Hank gave her a cozy sense of achievement, until she saw Beatrice dusting off her hands.

  "Guess I took care of that scum.” The thin woman spoke as if she had single-handedly captured the crook. "I'll let everyone stay for the fireworks but since they refuse to work for me, they’ll have to clear out by tomorrow."