WHITELAW'S WEDDING

by Beverly Barton

  When she ran out of the bedroom, Oxford at her heels, she sensed Hunter following her as she raced down the hall. She had no idea where she was going, barely knew what she was doing. All she understood was that she had to escape, had to get away from the guilt and the anger and the pain and the loss. Oh, God, the emptiness of loss, of having loved and then been left alone.

  He reached out for her, but she kept running away. Suddenly he tackled her, sending them both flying toward the floor. He somehow managed to catch himself and come down on one knee, then yanked her into his arms before her body landed beneath him. He held her so tightly, with such fierce determination, that she couldn't move, could barely breathe. With her face pressed against the side of his neck, she cried and cried. She couldn't stop the racking sobs that came from her very soul. He didn't say anything else, just held her while she unraveled, inch by slow, tormented inch.

  When her sobs subsided into an occasional gasp, he stood and lifted her up and into his arms. Then without a word, he carried her down the hall and into the living room. Oxford followed them, matching them step for step. She held on to Hunter for dear life, sensing that he was the only thing in the world that could keep her sane tonight. He sat in the large, overstuffed burgundy chair and brought her down onto his lap. Oxford plopped down beside the chair.

  Quite suddenly she felt exhausted, as if all her strength had drained out of her body. But the fear that had prompted her irrational actions was gone, evaporated by the heat of Hunter's strength. She relaxed against him, limp as a rag doll, and accepted his tender care. Somehow he understood what she needed from him right now. Her eyelids drooped. She yawned. Hunter leaned over, grabbed a hand-knitted afghan off the ottoman and wrapped it around them, then kissed her gently on the forehead.

  She sighed, a feeling of security and contentment unlike any she'd known since childhood cocooned her. She was safe. Safe in Hunter Whitelaw's arms.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Manda had spent the morning doing her job and trying to not think about the eerie phone call she'd received last night. Or the way she'd fallen apart emotionally. Or the fact that she had spent the rest of the night sleeping in Hunter's arms. He'd been a gentleman this morning when she awoke and found herself in his lap. Realizing that he probably hadn't gotten much sleep sitting up in the living room chair for hours while she rested, she had apologized to him. He had grinned and said it had been his pleasure.

  Lisa came through the open door and into Manda's office. "Mr. McCullough called and canceled. He's rescheduled for two weeks from today." Lisa handed Manda a cup of coffee, then nodded toward the outer office. "He's been on the phone most of the morning. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he was using my telephone."

  "Are you trying to tell me something?" Manda set the coffee mug on her desk.

  "He's amazing, isn't he? I mean, what woman wouldn't want a guy like that? I wouldn't be afraid of anybody or anything if I had somebody like Mr. Whitelaw protecting me," Lisa said. "Did you know that he's called his office and put them on alert? He told them he might need one or more agents as backup. And he's talked to the police chief twice. He told Chief Burgess that you had received another one of those threatening letters."

  "Hunter is a professional security agent. He's handling the situation as he would if this were a job assignment. And as for him talking to Chief Burgess, even though there isn't much the police can do without any evidence against someone, they need to know what's going on."

  "Don't you have caller ID?" Lisa asked. "I'd think that guy's number would have shown up."

  "It did. He was using a pay phone in downtown Dearborn."

  "In the middle of the night? And how did you know that—"

  "Hunter spoke to Chief Burgess and to Perry before we left the house this morning," Manda explained. "The police ran a check on the phone number immediately."

  "He's so, efficient, isn't he? A real take-charge kind of man." Lisa sighed dreamily.

  Hunter appeared in the doorway. "Would you like to go for an early lunch?"

  Manda glanced at him and her stomach fluttered the way it used to do when she'd been a teenager mooning over her big brother's best friend. Despite all the warnings she had given herself, she seemed powerless to stop her body's purely instinctive reaction to Hunter, so she could hardly blame her secretary for drooling over him.

  "I'd rather order in," she said. "With the honeymoon coming up and my taking off a week from work, I have a hundred and one things to do around here. Do you mind if we just have sandwiches?"

  "I don't mind," he said. "We'll do whatever you want to do."

  "Wow!" Lisa stared at Hunter, adoration in her eyes. "Mr. Whitelaw, you're too good to be true. You don't happen to have a brother who'd like to date a lowly secretary, do you?"

  Hunter chuckled. "Sorry. I'm an only child."

  "Figures," Lisa said, still staring at him.

  "Lisa, would you order a couple of ham and cheese specials from Josie's Café?" Manda glanced at Hunter. "Want dessert? Josie makes the most delicious fried pies. Peach, apple and blueberry."

  "Peach," Hunter said.

  "Add two peach pies to that order."

  Lisa nodded, then backed out of the office, her gaze still glued to Hunter. The moment she returned to her desk, Hunter closed the door and walked across the room toward Manda.

  "Do you have a few minutes?" he asked.

  "Of course. What's wrong? Has something happened that I don't know about? Please, don't keep anything from me. You probably think I'll turn into a basket case again, considering the way I acted when I received that stupid phone call. But I promise that I won't fall apart on you the way I did last night. I'm usually a tower of strength in a crisis. Just ask anyone who knows me."

  His gaze settled on her face. "I'll take your word for it. Besides, everyone has a right to come unglued occasionally."

  She offered him an appreciative smile.

  "As to what's going on—nothing new has happened." He sat on the edge of her desk. "But Chief Burgess gave me some information that might or might not have anything to do with our mystery caller."

  Manda looked directly at Hunter. "What sort of information?"

  "It seems that Burgess checked with the officer who patrolled the downtown area last night and early this morning. The officer distinctly remembers seeing a couple of our suspects downtown between two and three this morning. An odd coincidence, don't you think?"

  Her nerves tensed. "Who did the police officer see?"

  "He gave Grady Alder a ticket for running the red light at the intersection of Main Street

  and Seventh, which was only two blocks from the pay telephone that our caller used. This was around two o'clock this morning."

  "Grady? What was Grady doing out at two in the morning?"

  "He told the officer that he was driving home from a lady friend's house and he was a bit preoccupied with … er … romantic thoughts, and that's why he went straight through the traffic light."

  "That's possible," Manda said. "Since his divorce, Grady has been quite popular with the ladies."

  "His story is credible," Hunter admitted. "But whatever his reason for being downtown at that time of night, it puts him in the vicinity of the telephone used by our caller and puts him there at approximately the time you answered the phone."

  A sour nausea rippled in Manda's stomach. She had known and liked Grady for years. He and his ex-wife, Eva, had belonged to the country club and attended the same church as her family did. He and Eva had even hosted an engagement party for Mike and her.

  "Who was the other person the officer saw?" Manda asked.

  "Well, he didn't actually see the other person, just his car."

  "Who's car?"

  "A yellow Ferrari was parked in front of the Dearborn Museum, one block from the telephone our caller used," Hunter told her. "The officer didn't see anyone in the car, but he remembers thinking it odd that Chris Austin would
have left the Ferrari downtown overnight."

  "Have they questioned Chris?"

  Hunter nodded. "He says it wasn't his car. He and Claire swear he was home in bed. The officer had no reason to check the license plate number, so we have no proof that it actually was Chris's car. But what are the odds of another yellow Ferrari being in Dearborn?"

  "Claire probably thought he was at home. She wouldn't lie for him. So, now Grady and Chris move up to the top your suspects list."

  "They were already at the top of the list. This just confirms my suspicions, and it should warn you that either man could be our nutcase."

  Manda shook her head. "I can't believe … I don't want to believe that either of them is capable of making my life a living hell. Chris swears that he loves me. And Grady has always seemed genuinely fond of me. I've known both of them for ages."

  The outer door swung open and Lisa stood there with a stricken look on her face. Manda's heartbeat accelerated as she sensed the fear radiating from her secretary.

  Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't make a sound.

  Manda jumped up and rushed toward Lisa. "What's wrong?"

  Hunter approached the two women. "Lisa, whatever it is, it'll be all right. Just tell us."

  Lisa swallowed hard. "Phone call." She gulped. "Just now. He said … he said we would all die."

  "Dear God!" Manda gasped.

  Hunter grabbed Lisa's shoulders gently and forced her to look directly at him. "Who called? And was that everything he said, that we would all die?"

  Lisa shook her head. "I don't know who it was, but his voice sounded funny. You know, like it was recorded at low speed. And he said … he said that we would all die because he had to do something to make Manda listen to him. There's a bomb—" Lisa began huffing, sucking in air rapidly.

  Hunter shook her soundly. "Where is there a bomb? Here, in the clinic?"

  Lisa nodded her head repeatedly. "Do you think … he's bluffing? Is there really a bomb?"

  "I don't know," Hunter said. "But we're going to have to work under the assumption that there is. We need to clear out the clinic fast, without alarming the personnel or the patients." He tightened his hold on Lisa's shoulders. "Can you pull yourself together and help us? We need you."

  Lisa nodded. "I'll be okay. What—what do you want me to do?"

  He glanced at Manda. "Call the police and tell them that we're fixing to set off a fire alarm, but there is no fire. We've had a bomb threat called in and we need to clear out the clinic as quickly as possible." He turned back to Lisa. "Do you know how to set off the fire alarm?"

  "Yes."

  "Then go do it. Now. And tell anyone who'll listen to you that it's simply an unannounced fire drill."

  Manda dialed 9-1-1 and explained the situation. By the time she got off the phone, the fire alarm sounded. Hunter grabbed her arm and together they fled her office. She couldn't believe this was happening. How could this person, this lunatic, put the lives of everyone in the clinic at risk because he was obsessed with her? If she'd had any doubts that she was doing the right thing by going along with Perry and Hunter's plan to bring this nutcase out into open, she no longer had any doubts. He had to be stopped before he harmed anyone else. It wasn't a matter of only her personal happiness at stake now.

  When they passed Boyd's office, he came running toward them, a wild-eyed expression on his face. "What's going on? Is there a fire?"

  "It's a fire drill," Hunter said, keeping Manda moving as he responded.

  Boyd ran after them. "Who authorized a fire drill?"

  "I did," Manda said and continued rushing toward the exit.

  "Why would you do such a thing?" Boyd asked.

  In the distance sirens wailed, alerting everyone that help was on the way. People milled around outside, in designated areas, far enough away from the building to be safe in case there actually was a fire inside the clinic. Hunter didn't allow Manda to stop until they were across the street, then he turned to face Boyd, who had followed them.

  "Someone called in a bomb threat," Hunter said, his voice low. "We need to get everyone farther away from the clinic. Depending on what kind of bomb is inside the building, it could blow up one room or it could wipe out half a city block."

  Boyd turned chalk white. "A bomb? But why? Who would—" He glowered at Manda. "This has something to do with you and this business with the person who killed Mike Farrar and… Do you realize that you've put everyone in my clinic at risk?"

  "Shut up, Gipson." Hunter clamped his hand down on Boyd's shoulder. "You have more important things to do right now than assign blame."

  "Yes, of course, you're right." Boyd glanced at Manda. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

  "It's all right," she assured him. "Hunter's right. We need to get everyone across the street and as far away from the clinic as possible."

  When the fire department, the police department, and the paramedics arrived, the clinic's personnel and clients had been evacuated and two-thirds of them were already safely a block away. In his official capacity as the administrator of the Hickory Hills Clinic, Boyd remained with Chief Burgess while they waited for the bomb squad to search the building. Hunter stayed with Manda, though she realized he wanted to be in the middle of the action. He was a man accustomed to handling danger himself and not relying on others.

  "It's been a good twenty minutes since Lisa received the call," Hunter said. "Either this guy called us in plenty of time so that we could get everyone out or something went wrong with his bomb."

  Manda tugged on Hunter's arm. "I don't think Chris or Grady or Boyd would know how to build a bomb."

  "A ten-year-old can build a bomb these days," Hunter told her. "Anyone with access to a computer can get detailed instructions. But it's possible that our guy has already hired himself a professional. In that case, this was only a warning. If a professional had built and set that bomb, it would have already gone off."

  "Well, I know one thing for sure, it's not Boyd. You can rule him out. He'd never do anything to destroy the clinic or harm the people here. This clinic is his life."

  "Maybe so, but I'll wait until we get a report from the bomb squad before I start ruling out suspects."

  Hunter and Manda watched the activity across the street as Dearborn's emergency teams combined their efforts, some in charge of crowd control, while others faced immediate danger and the rest were on standby, prepared to go into action at a moment's notice.

  "You don't trust anyone, do you?" Manda's words were half question and half comment.

  Hunter glanced over his shoulder, a solemn expression on his face. "That's not true." He turned toward her. "I trust people who have earned my trust, those who have shown me by their actions that they're trustworthy. People like my comrades in the Dundee agency. And I've always trusted Perry. He's never let me down."

  Manda wished she'd never brought up the issue of trust. She figured that Hunter would never quite forgive her for the lie she'd told Grams all those years ago. Although she had very little in common with the spoiled, pampered child she'd been then, she wasn't sure it mattered to Hunter. He seemed to be the type who didn't forgive easily and never forgot. He might be risking his life to help her, but he was doing it only as a favor to Perry.

  "What's taking them so long?" Manda rubbed her hands together nervously, half expecting to hear a huge explosion at any moment. How would she feel if any lives were lost because of a bomb set by her twisted admirer? Would she be able to live with the guilt?

  She heard them calling her name before she saw them shoving their way through the crowd, which was a mixture of clinic personnel and clients, as well as curiosity seekers who had gathered to check out the excitement. Because he was the taller of the two, she saw Perry first when the sunlight glistened on his blond hair. The moment he caught a glimpse of her, his frown changed to a smile and he ran toward her. Grady Alder followed close behind and he, too, was smiling.

  Perry grabbed her and hugged her close.
"God, Manda, when I heard, I thought I'd go crazy until we got here and I saw for myself that you were all right."

  "I broke the speed limit getting us here," Grady said. "I can't believe this is happening. Do you know for sure that there's a bomb in the clinic?"

  "All we know is that he—the same person who wrote the two letters and made the phone call last night—called my office and told my secretary Lisa that he had put a bomb in the clinic and we would all die because he had to do something to make me listen to him."

  "Oh, Manda…" Perry caressed her face. "Don't start blaming yourself for this. No matter what happens, it's not your fault."

  "Of course it isn't her fault," Grady said as he moved closer and grasped Manda's hand. "I just hope that the police can do something to catch this guy. He must be insane."

  "Not necessarily," Hunter said. "He may simply be deviously clever and only slightly unbalanced."

  "What?" Grady glared at Hunter. "Are you saying a sane person would do the things this man has done?"

  "All I'm saying is that he may not be clinically insane."

  "I think we should take Manda home," Grady said. "She needs to get away from this madness." He gazed beseechingly at Manda. "Why don't you let Perry and me get you out of here?"

  Hunter narrowed his gaze directly on Grady. "Manda goes nowhere without me."

  "Now, see here, Whitelaw, I believe that Perry and I are capable of taking care of Manda until you finish up here." Thrusting out his chest, Grady's determined gaze issued Hunter a challenge.

  "Manda stays with me." Hunter spoke the words slowly, his tone brooking no argument.

  Grady curled his meaty hands into tight fists. Manda sensed he wanted to defy Hunter, but didn't quite have the courage to go up against a superior opponent. Even knowing that Hunter's reaction hadn't been personal, something totally primitive within her actually enjoyed the possessiveness he had displayed.

  "I can't leave until they find the bomb and we know they've been able to disarm it," Manda said. "Perry, you should go over to the house and let Grams and Gwen know we're all right. Grady, maybe you can either call or go by to let Claire and Chris—"