There Goes the Groom

by Rita Herron

  *~*~*~*

  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.