The Stolen Bride

by Jacqueline Diamond

  “Did my aunt call and recommend her?”

  “No. She says she hasn’t heard from her sister in over a year. She just decided to take a chance and it worked out.”

  “What was the timing exactly?” Erin asked.

  “The previous housekeeper quit a few weeks before your mother’s accident.” In investigating the near drowning, Joseph had interviewed Mrs. Larosa. Other than the fact that she’d found Lance so obnoxious she’d decided to leave, she’d had nothing of value to contribute. “Your Mom hired Brandy a week afterward.”

  “Do you suppose Todd was watching Brandy?” Erin asked.

  “Might have been. Your mother had no idea.” Honesty forced him to add, “However, according to Brandy, she hadn’t heard from Todd in years and had no idea what he was doing there.”

  Erin set down her ice cream spoon, although she hadn’t finished her sundae. “You think he’s killed Marie, don’t you?”

  Although it seemed likely, he preferred to dwell on more cheerful alternatives. “If she saw him as a threat, she might have gone into hiding.” Since he had nothing more to add, he tried a different tack. “It’s your turn. What did you learn this morning?”

  “Not good news, I’m afraid.” Erin wrapped her arms around herself. “My mom’s got breast cancer. She’s been keeping it secret.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He knew how upsetting that had to be for Erin. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “We’ve got to get her out of there,” she said. “No wonder she doesn’t stand up to Lance. She’s in no condition to fight him while she’s battling cancer.”

  “Any ideas how to accomplish that?” he asked.

  “Chet’s going to ask her to call me when Lance isn’t around.”

  “Wait a minute.” Joseph had been so startled to learn of Alice’s illness that he hadn’t questioned who’d told her about it. “I thought you were going to talk to the financial officer. How did Chet get involved?”

  “I ran into him,” she said. “He works on the same floor.”

  At the country club, Dever had alternately sweet-talked and bullied her. “Did he try his usual tricks?”

  “He behaved decently.” She chose her words with care, he could tell. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Darn it, he wanted to protect her. He didn’t like her being alone with Chet, not even to discuss her mother. But she hadn’t asked him to run her life.

  It seemed safer to change the subject. “How about that financial guy? Did he provide what you asked for?”

  “More,” Erin said. “A hundred thousand dollars. Can you believe that? He acted as if it were pocket change.”

  A hundred thousand dollars. Joseph fought the temptation to whistle in amazement. It was a vast amount, although only a fraction of what Erin had inherited.

  He didn’t begrudge it to her. He knew she would use the money and the power that came with it well.

  It was just that when a man considered a serious relationship, he wanted to take care of the woman he loved, or at least to share the responsibilities with her. Working together and helping each other created bonds that carried you through the hard times. He’d seen that with his parents.

  For a woman as wealthy as Erin, a husband had to seem almost superfluous. Unless, of course, he brought a comparable measure of wealth or prominence to the union.

  Husband? Whew, he’d made a wild mental leap. There was no point in getting worked up about something that would never happen anyway.

  “Now that you’re rolling in it, I’ll let you pay for the groceries on the way home,” he teased. “We can treat ourselves to lobster and caviar.”

  “I’d prefer spaghetti sauce and French bread, if that’s okay with you.”

  “It’s fine. I’m fresh out of lobster bibs anyway,” he joked.

  They stopped at the supermarket on Grove Street. Without making it explicit, Joseph realized, they’d agreed that Erin was going to stay with him for at least a few more days. Otherwise, why would they be conferring about what kind of steak to buy for tomorrow night and which kind of cereal they liked?

  She had enough money to live anywhere she wanted with plenty of security, and she seemed to have recovered from her dazed state at the wedding. It might be selfish of him to keep her at his modest house, trying to protect her all by himself.

  But how could a hired guard defend her when the enemy might be someone she knew? It took someone who knew the players to detect the undercurrents. It took a friend to understand which risks she had to take and which weren’t worth it.

  “Something else happened,” Erin said as they drove home.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t think it’s significant, but outside the Marshall Company a van headed toward me. It sped up and swerved, and I thought it was going to hit me.” She shuddered.

  He knew he should have been there. “What happened?”

  “It went right by. It was just avoiding a pothole.”

  “Did you see the driver?” He switched from one winding road to another, drawing closer to home.

  “A middle-aged woman.”

  “Familiar?”

  “No, and I don’t think she noticed me.” She flipped a lock of chestnut hair off her neck. “The funny thing is I got a flash of memory, nothing substantial, just glare on a windshield. It might have been the van that hit me.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “How come?”

  “It means the memories are there,” he said. “Sometimes trauma victims don’t have time to transfer what happens from short-term to long-term memory. In that case, whatever happened is truly gone and can’t be recovered.”

  “You think my memories might still come back?” Erin asked dubiously.

  “Possibly,” Joseph said. “Willing to try an experiment?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Relax and let your mind float. Don’t focus on the crash.” He swung onto Little Creek Lane. “Think about what you must have done that morning, driving to the carnival or talking to your boss. Things with no emotional load attached.”

  A sports car whizzed by in the opposite direction, hugging the sharp turns. Joseph recognized the driver as one of his neighbors.

  Erin leaned her head against the seat rest. “I can almost taste this chocolate bar, and then I feel empty. Like I’m still hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Did you think about eating one and deny it to yourself?”

  “No. Wait!” A thin line creased her forehead. “There was a little boy…”

  A sharp crack resounded from off to their right. “Get down!” Instinctively, Joseph swerved into a zigzag pattern.

  Erin slid as low as her seat belt allowed. Another report echoed from the canyon walls.

  A vibration shook the car. Whoever was shooting at them had hit the back of the car.

  His aim wasn’t great. But it might be good enough to kill.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you hurt?” Erin heard Joseph demand as he stepped on the gas.

  “No.” She tensed, huddled low and waited for the next shot. When it rang out, she shuddered. More shots. The car leaped forward.

  “Joseph?” Her jaw trembled so hard she barely managed to say his name.

  “I’m fine.”

  They zipped around a curve. The next bursts of sound were fainter. She hoped that meant they’d passed beyond the shooter’s range.

  “If you can reach your cell phone, dial 911,” Joseph said.

  She fumbled in her purse until she found the device. In her nervousness, she lost her grip several times getting it open, and it seemed to take forever before she managed to activate it and dial.

  They were entering his driveway when the dispatcher said, “911 Emergency.”

  “Tell her there’s a sniper on Little Creek Lane,” Joseph said hoarsely. Gravel spun from beneath their wheels as they plunged upward.

  Erin repeated the information and, as requested,
gave the street number along with their names. “I’m sending someone right now,” the dispatcher said. “Please stay on the line.”

  They crested the drive and lurched into the carport, barely stopping short of the far wall. “Stay here.” Joseph opened his door. “I’m not going far.”

  The prospect of his getting shot terrified Erin. “Shouldn’t we both lie low?”

  “It’s better this way.” He drew his gun. “I’m not letting him sneak up and shoot us like sitting ducks.”

  As he exited in a crouch, blood roared in Erin’s ears. Please don’t let anything happen to Joseph. He was her safe harbor. She might possess reserves of strength herself, but right now she had no idea where they’d gone.

  Against her ear, the dispatcher asked another question. Speaking softly, Erin described what was happening. “Joseph’s taking a look around.”

  “Did you see anyone? Do you have a vehicle description?”

  “I think he was shooting from the woods,” she said. “We couldn’t see him.”

  “I’ve got two cars responding,” the dispatcher said. As if in confirmation, Erin heard the distant wail of a siren, followed by a second one.

  “Thank you.”

  The driver’s door opened. Erin’s heart nearly stopped until she saw Joseph’s ruffled hair and grim face. “He hit the car, right near the gas tank,” he said. “We got lucky. A few more inches and we’d have gone up in flames.”

  She refused to focus on what might have been. “Any sign of him?”

  He replied with a negative. “If he’s smart, he’ll melt into the woods before the cavalry arrives, but let’s keep our heads down just in case.”

  Erin’s palm brushed Joseph’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.” He kissed her hand. “Let’s keep quiet in case he’s still here. I don’t want him to get the drop on us.”

  In silence, they listened for the warning crunch of gravel. All she heard were birds twittering and the rising shrill of police sirens.

  Finally a patrol car screamed up the driveway onto the gravel. Joseph holstered his gun. “Ask the dispatcher to tell the officer we’re in the car and we’re about to get out. We don’t want to startle anyone.”

  Erin obeyed. When she finished, Joseph emerged slowly. She was relieved to hear the patrolman greet him by name.

  While she was getting out, a second black-and-white appeared, and from overhead came the whir of the police rescue helicopter. Her family had paid for that, Erin recalled. Her father’s idea of community service might not be exactly the same as hers, but she was grateful he’d chosen to fund this particular amenity.

  Within minutes, more officers arrived and, with the aid of the copter, fanned out to search the woods. A couple of neighbors dropped by as well, full of curiosity and concerns. Each was questioned and checked for gunpowder residue.

  “I guess you have to be suspicious of everybody, don’t you?” she asked Joseph, who steered her into the house.

  “You bet. Suspects often return to the scene of the crime. It fascinates them.” He went to the front door. “Rick’s here. I’d better go talk to him.”

  “I’ll come too.”

  “No.” He leveled her a quelling glance. “Stay inside. It’s safe to assume you were the primary target. If this sniper’s desperate enough, he might be sticking around to take another shot at you.”

  “Okay.” Reluctantly, she hung back. He wedged the door shut, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  Who would be that desperate and why? Erin wondered. She couldn’t imagine what kind of threat she posed to anyone.

  Too nervous to sit still, she was pacing when another idea struck her. If people were trying to get rid of her, maybe they’d also made an attempt on Alice’s life.

  She called her mother’s house. On the second ring, Lance’s gruff voice said, “Bolding.”

  She cleared her throat. “It’s me, Erin. I want to speak to my mother.”

  “I told you not to call.” He sounded more irritable than angry.

  “Someone just tried to shoot me and Joseph,” she said.

  “Anybody hurt?”

  “No.”

  He let out a breath so harsh it hurt her ear. “Listen to me, Erin. You stay away from your mother. Got that?”

  “Or what?” she challenged.

  “Spare me the defiance crap. Messing with her is going to get you hurt. Do you understand me?”

  “I’ll talk to my mother if I want to. What’s between her and me is none of your business.”

  The phone clicked off in her ear. Erin stood there steaming until the irony of the situation struck her. At least she knew Lance hadn’t been today’s shooter. In fact, she’d just given him an alibi.

  Restlessly, she went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Figuring the police searchers might get thirsty, she fixed a tray with foam cups and containers of cream and sugar and took them into the living room.

  A short time later, Joseph and Rick came in. They made a beeline for the coffee.

  “Thanks, Erin.” As Detective Sergeant Ricardo Valdez poured himself a cup, his dark eyes surveyed her thoughtfully. In a way, his air of calm self-possession reminded her of Joseph. No wonder Tina liked the guy. “Are you feeling well enough to talk?”

  “I think so,” she said. “Any luck?”

  Both men shook their heads. “Whoever he was, he’s gone,” Joseph said. “However, he left a little token in the trunk of my car.”

  “What kind of token?”

  From inside his jacket, Rick lifted a small, clear evidence bag. It contained a bullet. “It went right through the car body and landed in the trunk.”

  “Could that help you catch him?” Erin asked.

  “Only if we find a gun to compare it with.” The detective’s mouth twisted. “One thing I can say for sure. It didn’t come from the same weapon as the bullet we found near Todd Wilde. Different caliber. Might be from a hunting rifle, which would make sense under the circumstances.”

  “Two different guns. That means more than one person is involved,” she said. It was a scary thought.

  “Or one guy who owns two guns,” Joseph pointed out.

  They reviewed with Rick everything they’d done that day. He let out a low whistle at the news that Joseph had interviewed Lima. “I’m going to keep this out of the report for now. It may not be relevant, and the chief will go postal if he hears it.”

  Erin hesitated when it came to her trip to the lawyer’s office. But, she realized, she didn’t have to reveal the contents of her new will, only the fact that she’d revised it.

  “Good for you,” Joseph said when she told them. He had to be assuming she’d left the money to Friend of a Friend.

  “Did you happen to name any beneficiaries who might want to collect right away?” Rick asked.

  She smiled. “There’s no chance of that.”

  It was well after dark before the police finished. The gunman had escaped, leaving neither footprints nor snagged clothing behind—only the bullet.

  When everyone had gone, the two of them fixed spaghetti and settled down for dinner. Erin felt as if they should try again to devise a theory about what had happened, but she was fresh out of ideas. Joseph, who seemed to feel the same way, launched into a description of Mrs. Lima’s delicious churros. “One of these days I’d like to tour Mexico and see if anyone down there makes them as well as she does.”

  “Do they make churros in South America?” Erin would love to visit the archaeological sites she’d read about. Her father had often talked of traveling but, despite his wealth, never found time for it.

  “I’d enjoy finding out. Whatever they cook, I’m sure it’s delicious,” Joseph said. “We could eat our way from Mexico City to Buenos Aires.”

  “By the time we get to Machu Picchu, they’ll have to roll us up the mountain,” she said.

  Their gazes met across the table. Soft light from a chandelier bathed them in an intimate circle. Be
neath the table, Erin became aware of his legs brushing hers.

  “Of course, we could stay home and learn to make churros ourselves,” Joseph said.

  She sought a lighthearted response but failed. The silence lengthened. Much as she wanted to continue their banter, her spirits hung heavy.

  “Is something bothering you?” he asked.

  The answer came to her unexpectedly. “We could have died today. I don’t mean to be morbid, but it’s on my mind.”

  “We could die any day,” he said. “That’s the risk you run by being alive.”

  “Spoken like a cop!” She shook her head. “Doesn’t what happened upset you at all?”

  “Well, I’m glad we didn’t die,” he said drolly.

  Erin wished she could take the matter as coolly as Joseph did. She might not be able to stop this mysterious attacker from coming after her, but she hated the power he had to fill her with dread. If only the prospect of death weren’t so terrifying.

  “How do you avoid being afraid?” she asked. “Today, when you got out of the car with your gun, you didn’t hesitate.”

  “Things like that don’t bother me,” he said. “Living badly, wasting your life, getting soft and corrupt, those are things to be afraid of. Or getting framed and losing everything like my dad. But not death, especially if it’s quick and clean.”

  An explanation came to her. “I guess that’s because you know who you are.” Seeing his puzzled expression, Erin explained, “You know what you’re supposed to accomplish in life and you’ve set yourself on the right track. If you don’t make it to the end, at least you’ll know you went as far as you could.”

  “I’m not sure I follow the philosophy, but I’ll take that as a compliment,” Joseph said.

  “It is.” She planted her elbows on the table, something her mother would never have allowed even after they’d finished a meal. “That’s why you have such inner serenity. Half the time, I feel frazzled and off-kilter. I’ve always sort of known what direction I need to go in, but I worry about what other people think and whether I’m making a mistake.”

  “Mistakes are part of the learning curve,” he said. “The trick is not to keep repeating the same ones.”