The Stolen Bride

by Jacqueline Diamond

  “Did you believe her testimony?”

  “It wasn’t up to me,” the chief said. “The D.A. decides who to prosecute. You know that.”

  “You didn’t have an opinion?”

  He shrugged. “It might have been true. On the other hand, she struck me as the type of woman who would lie if her boyfriend asked her to.”

  “What about Alfonso Lorenz?”

  “His mother swore he got off work early that night and told her your father had sent him home,” Lima said.

  “Did you believe her?”

  “Who knows? She was his mother.” After a sip of coffee, he added, “We searched his house without finding the jewels, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t stashed somewhere. Later, when he left the country, the D.A. still didn’t believe there was enough evidence to reopen the case.”

  The D.A., who’d died of cancer several years later, had been a politically ambitious man who, in Joseph’s opinion, hadn’t been willing to admit he might have made a mistake. Especially not after the man he sent to prison was killed there.

  Joseph downed another churro. “What about Chief Norris?”

  “What about him?”

  “Any idea where he was that night?”

  The question hung in the air. “That’s quite an implication,” Lima said quietly. “Do you have reason to suspect him?”

  “Do you?” Joseph asked.

  “I am not a hostile witness,” the chief reminded him.

  “I’m sorry.” He took a long breath before asking rhetorically, “Do I have evidence linking him to the Nguyen murder? No. Just an uneasy sense that he might not be entirely innocent.”

  “I wondered about that myself,” Lima said.

  “You did?”

  “Not that I had any evidence, but despite his past alcoholism, it seemed out of character for your father to commit a violent crime,” he said. “Also, the explanation that he got so drunk he fell over backward and smacked his head didn’t wash with me, especially since no one could say exactly what he fell against.”

  “What about the defense attorney? Was he incompetent?” Since the lawyer had retired to Costa Rica while Joseph was in college, he’d never had a chance to question him.

  “He did a decent job but not a great one. Your family couldn’t afford one of those elaborate defenses with experts giving demonstrations about the angle of the head injury and that sort of thing. He presented a reasonable case, I thought, but the jury didn’t buy it.”

  “Let’s get back to Chief Norris.” As long as he’d raised the subject, Joseph might as well pursue it. “Were you satisfied with his investigation?”

  “If not, I’d have put someone else on the case,” Lima said.

  “But you said you have doubts about him,” he pointed out.

  “They came after the fact,” his host explained. “For one thing, he strongly opposed my hiring you. I don’t understand why Edgar would hold your father’s actions against you unless he had a guilty conscience.”

  “Thanks,” Joseph said. “Anything else?”

  “When I heard he’d been elected to the country club board of directors, it occurred to me that money meant a lot more to Edgar than it did to your father,” Lima said. “Which meant he had a greater motive to go after those jewels. But I’m sure he wasn’t directly involved in what happened that night.”

  “How?” he pressed.

  Lima polished off another churro before replying. “He had an airtight alibi.”

  “No alibi is perfect,” Joseph said. “Whoever testified for him might have a motive of his own. Where was he that night?”

  “With me,” the chief said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tugging free from Chet’s grasp, Erin moved away on the thick carpet. “If you’re mad about the story in today’s paper, I’m sorry. But when we decided to go boating, I had no idea we were going to stumble across a corpse.”

  “I’m not angry. That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.” Chet’s eyes remained opaque. Being around him felt almost surreal. She’d nearly married a man she now realized she hardly knew. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

  “A little woozy.” A tremor of apprehension ran through her. Although he’d never been abusive, he had uttered what sounded like a threat on Saturday. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Chet gestured her to a chair. Erin shook her head, and they stayed where they were, poised like two fencers waiting for the other to make the first move.

  In his three years as CEO, Chet had made the space his own, she noticed. He’d not only remodeled but also enlarged it, expanding into the adjoining office that had once been her father’s. In addition to an expanse of glass, a broad desk and what seemed like miles of carpeting, a massive array of black audiovisual equipment reminded her of something from a James Bond movie.

  Until two years ago the CEO had kept a low profile, since much of the real power had remained in the hands of her fa ther. After Andrew’s death, Chet clearly hadn’t hesitated to step into the breach.

  “I have a message from your mother,” he said.

  “What is it?” It was more important than ever to make contact with her mother since the discovery of Todd Wilde’s body had confirmed there was something evil afoot.

  “She called this morning after reading the Sentinel,” he said. “She’s worried about you being out on the lake when you’re not well.”

  “That sounds like her.” Erin’s mother would get more worked up about the possibility of her daughter catching a chill than about the fact that an old acquaintance was dead.

  “By the way, why did you go boating?” Chet asked.

  “Joseph thought the fresh air might be good for me.” She kept her tone bland. The truth about their investigation was none of his business. “By the way, did you know him?”

  “Who?”

  “Todd Wilde.” There was no reason they should have met. Still, she’d learned from Joseph that it was better to ask an unnecessary question than to risk omitting an important one.

  When Chet shook his head, she saw no sign of guile on his face. “I’m afraid not, but it makes me uneasy for your mother.”

  “Me, too,” Erin said. “Look, Lance told me not to call the house and I’d hate to tangle with him, but please ask Mom to phone me directly. She has my cell number.”

  “I don’t think you realize what bad shape she’s in,” Chet said.

  A knot of dread formed in Erin’s chest. “Is there something she’s not telling me?”

  “It isn’t my place to say so.”

  “Chet!”

  He regarded her searchingly. “She doesn’t want to upset you, but I think you have a right to hear it,” he said. “Erin, your mother has cancer.”

  Cancer. The dreaded word hung in the air.

  Erin didn’t want to lose her mom. In all the concern about the near drowning, she hadn’t suspected this furtive, deadly foe. “What kind of cancer? Is she getting good care?”

  “It’s breast cancer, so there’s hope,” he said. “She’s being treated at the oncology center here in town. You know they’re top-notch, and they’ve been very accommodating about her privacy. She didn’t want people to see her while her hair was growing out.”

  “So that’s why she was avoiding everyone.” Erin tried to absorb what he’d said. “When did it start? Does this have anything to do with her accident?’

  “She’s been in treatment since before then,” Chet told her. “She went out on the water to try to collect her thoughts. She said she was nauseated from her treatment and made the mistake of leaning over the edge, and that’s when she fell.”

  “She should have told the police!”

  “Do you have any idea how many people have access to that report? She refused to risk it.”

  “I understand. I wish she’d told me, though.” Alice must have believed she was protecting her daughter, but that wasn’t true. Secrecy had only made things worse. And they’d lost time they
could have spent together.

  “She’ll be relieved when I tell her I’ve seen you, although not thrilled that I shot off my mouth,” Chet said. “I’ll ask her to call you.”

  “Please tell her it’s important.” Although this information put Lance in a less suspicious light, Erin still didn’t trust him. The day of the wedding, his order that she leave her mother alone hadn’t been related to the cancer.

  Chet reached out as if to take her hands. She flinched, and he stopped. “I’m afraid I haven’t acquitted myself very well in your eyes, have I?”

  “I guess you haven’t,” she agreed.

  “Surely there’s some way we can make this up,” Chet said. “I’m sorry I lied. But at a time like this, with your mother ill, we should pull together.”

  Erin got another uneasy sensation. Part of her wanted to agree, to trust that he could make things right. Mostly, though, she knew better. “I’m never going to marry you. I don’t love you.”

  “Everything was fine until that detective interfered.” The words bristled with irritation. “He wants to clear his father’s name and he’ll use you to do it. You may trust him, but he’s got his own ax to grind. “

  “Don’t underestimate me,” Erin said. “I’m not clinging to Joseph or anyone else.”

  “Aren’t you?” Chet took a step closer. “I’ve known you for a long time. I understand what you’re like.”

  She resented the way he towered over her, forcing her to either step backward or tip her head back to look up at him. Erin chose the latter course rather than retreat. “You don’t know me, you only know how I’ve behaved. Well, I’m changing, in case you hadn’t noticed. Get with the picture, buster.”

  He stared at her. “You sound like your father.”

  “Good,” she said. “I plan to do that a lot more.”

  To her surprise, he chuckled. “Good for you.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Maybe I did underestimate you,” Chet said. “I always believed we were suited for each other. Now I’m sure of it.”

  That wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. While Erin wanted them to continue on good terms, she preferred for those terms to be impersonal. “I’m glad you like the new me. You still need to take no for an answer.”

  “I promise to work on it.”

  “You can work on it by opening the door, for starters,” she said.

  With a mock courtly bow, Chet turned the knob and walked with her to the elevator. “I’ll call your mother today. I’m sure she wants to see you.”

  “Thanks.” She tried to hide her relief at getting away from him. How had she ever imagined she could live with that man?

  When Erin reached the sidewalk in front of the building, she let the afternoon sunshine wash over her. The tang of autumn in the October day made her keenly aware of being alive and free.

  Down the block, on the opposite side of the street, she caught sight of the Sundown Medical Center. Fifteen years ago, she’d attended the opening of the oncology unit that her parents had underwritten. Even after hearing all the statistics about cancer, Erin had never thought that someday a family member might be treated there.

  Breast cancer had a fairly good cure rate, she remembered reading, but Alice didn’t look well. Lost in thought, Erin scarcely noticed a van pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

  It turned toward her beneath a row of trees. When leaves stippled the windshield, Erin’s heart beat faster. She might not have a clear picture of what had happened that day six weeks before, but some part of her remembered. A windshield. Glare. Someone at the wheel.

  The van tracked toward her, gaining speed. A sense of incredulity rooted her in place. This was her hometown. It was broad daylight and she was standing in front of the Marshall building.

  Accelerating, the van veered toward her. Any minute, it would leave the road.

  Erin started to run. On the sidewalk, her smooth-soled pumps skidded and she teetered, off balance.

  She couldn’t get out of the path. Not again. This couldn’t happen twice.

  The van swung away from her, straightening its course as it sped by. At the wheel sat a middle-aged woman, her gaze fixed in the distance. She didn’t appear to have noticed Erin.

  In the middle of the street loomed a pothole. The driver must have veered to avoid it.

  The van cornered onto a side street and disappeared.

  Adrenaline pumped through Erin. She hadn’t been in danger, yet it felt like a close call.

  Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. Determined to go about her business, she crossed the street and headed to a nearby branch of her bank. There should be plenty of time to pick up some cash from her newly fattened account.

  All that money, she thought as she waited for the teller to confirm the balance and count out a couple of hundred dollars in tens and twenties. Millions and millions, and what would have happened to it if that van had killed her?

  Alice might be dying. If Erin perished too, Lance Bolding would get everything. The opportunist who’d targeted her mother on a cruise could end up owning the company her father had spent his life building.

  She refused to take that risk.

  Beyond the bank stood the law office of Horner and Fitch, where Joseph’s mother worked. By the time Erin emerged from the bank, she’d decided to take this chance to revise her will. If Joseph beat her to the ice cream parlor, he’d just have to wait.

  At the front desk, Suzanne greeted her warmly. She became all business when Erin explained why she was there. “I’m sure Abe can find time for you,” she said. “Just a sec.”

  In no time, the short, energetic attorney was ushering Erin into his chamber. Only thinning white hair hinted that he had to be around seventy.

  Abe Fitch was, as always, warmly accommodating. Certainly, he agreed, she could change her will. Although usually it took several visits to create a new will, since the document had to be prepared for her signature, they could handle it today if she didn’t want to wait.

  Her anxiety about the beige van still haunting her, Erin agreed. Now that she’d made up her mind, she preferred to get the whole thing over with.

  When she said she wanted to remove her mother’s name from the will, Abe didn’t ask for a reason, although he must have wondered about it. On the verge of telling him to leave it all to her trust, she stopped.

  The Marshall Company was not only a vast corporation, it also wielded an incalculable power over the people of Sundown Valley by the nature of the projects it undertook and how it managed them. Her foundation, due to its mission, would use that influence only to enhance its own wealth. She couldn’t expect a banker to exercise moral authority when he hadn’t been charged with doing so.

  She needed to leave her legacy to an individual she trusted. There was only one person in her heart.

  “I want to leave my interest in the Marshall Company to my good friend Joseph Lowery,” she told the attorney.

  His hand jerked on his legal pad. She envisioned a black streak on the yellow paper. “Is he aware of this bequest?”

  “No,” Erin said. “Does he have to be?”

  “Not necessarily,” Abe said. “I just have to make sure there’s no duress or undue influence, nothing that could give anyone grounds to challenge the will later.”

  “It’s entirely my own idea,” she said. “I trust Joseph to do the right thing with that kind of power. I know he’ll use it well.”

  “I’ve always liked that young man.” Abe asked a few more questions before saying, “I’ll have Suzanne type this up. She understands that it’s confidential. There are several people at the bank who sometimes witness documents for me when my client is in a hurry, if that suits you.”

  “Sure,” Erin said.

  They wrapped up the matter inside an hour. A will looked like such a simple document, Erin thought as she signed it, just a few pages of whereases and wherefores. The effect if she died, however, would shake this town to its roots.


  Suzanne refrained from making any comment. She looked a bit stunned.

  By the time Erin got to the ice cream parlor with the will tucked inside her purse, Joseph had dug into a banana split. “It’s my lunch,” he explained when she came in. “Sorry I didn’t wait.”

  “I apologize for taking so long.” Taking a seat, Erin ordered a two-scoop sundae. As he’d said, it was lunch.

  WHILE THEY ATE, Joseph filled her in on his meeting with Manuel Lima. “He and his wife hosted a dinner party the night Binh Nguyen was killed,” he told her after filling in about Edgar Norris’s alibi. “Everyone stayed until at least 1:00 a.m.”

  The victim’s watch, broken during his fatal beating, had stopped at 11:47 p.m. Although that didn’t preclude the possibility of Norris’s involvement in planning the crime, Joseph had to admit it weighed in the chief’s favor.

  “In a way, I’m glad,” Erin said. “I’d hate to think Tina’s father was involved in something so horrible.”

  “Someone framed my father,” Joseph said doggedly. “If it wasn’t him, I’m back to square one.”

  “Chief Lima didn’t have any suggestions?” Erin asked.

  “No. But he told me something interesting about Todd Wilde. Your Aunt Marie gave him his alibi for that night.”

  She demanded the details. When he finished, she said, “You’re going to tell Rick, aren’t you?”

  “I already did.” Joseph had made the call as soon as he left the old chief’s house. “He said he’s going to arrange for some divers to check the lake tomorrow near where we found Todd.”

  She paled. “Oh, my gosh. I hope they don’t find another body.”

  “I hope not, either.” Joseph appreciated the fact that Rick had shared details of his investigation as if the two men were working together. In a sense they were, even if it wasn’t official. “He went to the Boldings’ house to find out how your mother came to hire Brandy. She says Brandy had trouble finding a job when she got out of rehab, and she had been a good friend to Marie.”