U.S. Marshals: Prey (U.S. Marshals Book 3)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Hasn’t this been fun?” Charity rested her cheek against his chest.

  “Yeah. Gillian and Gracie sure know how to throw a party.”

  “Don’t forget me,” Allie said, grinning beside them, apparently content dancing in her husband’s arms. “I showed the party supply guys where to park.”

  “I could never forget you.” Charity left Adam to pull her bridesmaid into a hug. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”

  “Hey,” Adam complained. “What’s the deal? Stealing my girl?”

  “Here she is,” Allie teased, delivering Charity into Adam’s outstretched arms. “Back all safe and sound.”

  “I never worried she wouldn’t be safe,” Adam said. “I just missed her.”

  Caleb snorted.

  “You got something to say?” Adam asked.

  Caleb shot him a dark look before taking Allie by her hand to lead her off the crowded floor.

  “What was that about?” Charity asked.

  “Nothing. Just my brother’s sick sense of humor.”

  “Funny,” she said. “But I don’t find him amusing.”

  “Forget him,” he urged. “Focus on us. Just think, tomorrow at this time, you’ll be my wife.”

  “Mmm…” She eased back into his arms. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me, neither,” Adam said, glad Bug’s back was to the powwow Caleb and Beau and their wives were having over by the champagne fountain. Odds were, they were discussing him, but by this time tomorrow, once Charity was his wife, what they said wouldn’t matter. Because she’d have vowed to love him forever. And at that point, there’d be no need for them to ever keep secrets from each other again.

  “You look beautiful.” Steph adjusted Charity’s veil.

  Gillian had transformed the ultrafeminine garden room off the solarium into a dressing room fit for royalty. Though it was Christmas, it felt more like July, with warm sun streaming through a wall of paned windows and fragrant orchids and roses filling every spare corner. Happy love songs had been playing steadily for an hour, only increasing Charity’s sense of giddy excitement.

  “Thank you,” Charity said, stepping back from the cheval mirror she’d been gazing into to pull her sister into a hug. “I feel beautiful. Beyond belief blessed. For the longest time, I was afraid this day wouldn’t come, but now—”

  “Is it time?” Steph asked.

  “For what? Heading down the aisle? I thought we were ahead of schedule? I need your help handing out my bridesmaid gifts. I found the most darling Swarovski crystal ladybugs that—”

  “Calm down,” Steph said, applying more face powder, then blush. “I was asking if it’s time for me to tell you I told you so.”

  “About what?” Charity asked.

  “Oh, remember a couple months back when a certain someone moped around, worrying that just because she was one of the guys, she might never land one?”

  “I never said that,” Charity complained, trying to hide her easy grin. “I’m a hardened marshal. I don’t even have time for boys.”

  “Uh-huh.” Steph winked. “Lie all you want. I just want it said I was right.”

  “What were you right about?” their mom asked.

  Steph relayed the story.

  “Yes,” their mother said. “In this case, I have to agree with Stephanie. In the past, Charity, you have been known to borrow worries when you couldn’t find enough of your own.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Charity asked.

  “Nothing,” her mother said, fussing even more over the veil Steph had already adjusted at least ten times. “Just that in all the years you’ve feared never having a family of your own, your sister, dad and I have loved you enough to know someday, some very wise man would snap you up.”

  “Aw…” Charity blinked back tears.

  “Don’t you cry!” Gillian bustled over. “You’ll muss your makeup.”

  “I’m fine,” Charity said. “Sort of.” Fanning her face, she smiled through happy tears. The only way this day could be brighter was if her twin brother had lived to share it with her. It was her fervent hope that while Craig couldn’t be here in person, he was at least here in spirit. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a wreck. But a happy one. And speaking of wrecks, has anyone seen my future hubby?”

  “I saw Uncle Adam,” Meggie said, looking beyond adorable in the white co-flower girl dress that was a pint-size miniature of Charity’s. Ralphie wandered up behind her, a ring pillow strapped to his collar. He didn’t look too happy about the development.

  He sat on his hind legs, trying to have a good scratch at it with his right front paw, but Meggie took her duties very seriously and pushed his paw away.

  Chrissy, also a flower girl, wearing an even smaller version of Charity’s dress, said, “Bad dog, Ralphie.”

  “What was he doing?” Charity asked the next-to-the-youngest of her bridal party.

  “Trying to knock over his pillow, but I stopped him.” Meggie proudly beamed at her ingenuity.

  All assembled laughed.

  “I know what Ralphie’s doing, sweetie,” Charity said. “I was talking about your uncle Adam. What was he doing?”

  “Oh,” Meggie said with a wide smile. “He was playing video games. He was beating Daddy really bad, but Daddy said that was just because he’d had so much time to practice.”

  “Meggie…” Gillian switched to fussing with Meggie’s hair bow. “How about peeking out the dressing room door to see if Aunt Charity’s daddy is ready.”

  “But, Mommy,” Meggie said, “I was talking about Uncle Adam. Ever since he doesn’t work anymore, he’s like the best ever at video games. He’s always beating Daddy really bad, and it’s funny when Daddy pretends to cry.”

  Charity knelt beside the little girl. “What did you mean,” she asked, “about Uncle Adam not working?”

  “You know,” the little girl said, tugging a flyaway curl, ultimately putting it in her mouth. “About how Uncle Adam’s been hiding at his apartment. Me and Daddy went to see him lots of times, and boy,” she said, eyes wide, “was it ever messy. If Mommy had been there, she’d give him a time-out.”

  “Meggie,” Gillian said, “that’s enough.”

  “Did she just say what I thought she did?” Charity quietly asked, a part of her not wanting to know.

  “No.” Allie hustled over to further fiddle with the bride’s veil.

  Charity brushed her away. “Would everyone please leave my veil alone and tell me the truth? I knew all along something was funky about what Adam’s been doing, but—”

  A knock sounded on the door, then the wedding planner poked her head through. “Places, everyone. We’re ready to begin.”

  “Wait,” Charity said. “I have to—”

  “What you have to do—” the brassy woman Charity had never particularly liked, gave her a gentle shove toward the door “—is get down that aisle. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

  As if on autopilot, though her head was reeling and a strange hum had started in her ears, Charity allowed herself to be shuffled along, absorbed into the big event’s carefully choreographed flow. But even as the seconds ticked by, carrying her ever closer to the man she truly felt was her soul mate, doubts crept in.

  What if what Meggie had said was true? That Adam really hadn’t been working? Then what had he been doing? Why would he lie? What possible motivation could he have had? Other than hiding something he’d done that he’d known she wouldn’t be pleased about.

  “Gillian!” Charity said in a stage whisper, yanking her out of the bridesmaid’s line-up. Meggie and Chrissy were already grinning their way down the aisle. Ralphie had even stopped trying to scratch his ring pillow.

  Friends and family twisted in their seats. Everyone she knew and loved was here, straining for a glimpse at her and the dress that must’ve cost Gillian more than a small country’s yearly budget. All of these people she loved had come to see a wedding. After their vows, Charity could drill Adam for the next fifty yea
rs. Now, the smart choice—the only choice—was to walk down that aisle…right?

  “Charity,” Gillian said. “Get the stricken look off your face. Let it rest. Whatever Adam did or didn’t do doesn’t matter now. It’s your wedding day. Smile.”

  “It matters if he lied.” Charity’s voice felt oddly disconnected from the rest of her body. Hot and dizzy, part of her felt as if she were floating. As if some other poor bride had heard this devastating news. “Tell me the truth. Has Adam been on a case all these weeks, or was he suspended from work?”

  “All right,” Gillian glanced down the aisle at her panicked-looking brother. “Here it is. That day you got shot? Adam walked out of the courthouse in order to see you.”

  “But he had Caleb’s permission.”

  “No, honey,” Gillian said, hand on her satin, lace-and-pearl-covered arm. “He walked out against explicit orders to continue manning his security post. For all that team knew, the shooter could’ve come after the judge at any moment, but Adam chose to leave the judge and go to you.”

  Charity wasn’t sure how to process this news. In front of her, beyond all those smiling faces of friends and family, at the faraway end of the long, orchid-and-fern-lined aisle, stood Adam, so tall and handsome and…

  Queasy-looking?

  He flashed her a cheesy grin. The one he used when trying to get himself out of the doghouse.

  Right at this very second, Adam knew what Gillian was telling her. He knew, and he was afraid. After going off on her that night in the motel about not telling him the whole truth about Cookie’s rock incident, he’d flat-out lied about something as serious as his having been suspended from the marshal’s service.

  Though Allie and Gracie and even Ralphie had already made it to the business end of the long aisle, Gillian and Steph still remained.

  “Ladies,” the wedding planner hissed, wildly gesturing to the last bridesmaid and maid of honor. “Posthaste, if you please.”

  “Charity?” Gillian asked. “You okay? If Adam didn’t love you so much, he never would’ve—”

  With her pulse pounding in her ears, Charity looked to her sister, father, to all the guests gazing at her with concern. She’d been blessed to have not been cursed with much morning sickness, but now, sour bile rose in her throat. Placing her bouquet, the featured five pounds of white orchids and roses with a crystal ladybug poking out the top, on a nearby side table, she took a deep breath. Stilled her hands by resting them on her churning stomach.

  If Adam would flat-out lie about something as big as this, what else would he lie about? Had he already lied about? Was he just as much in love with Angela as ever, only now that Charity carried his child, family pressure was making him go through with this wedding?

  Suddenly her glamorous dress weighed her down, reminding her who she was. A homely female marshal whose idea of a good time was sitting around cataloging bugs while dressed in ratty old sweats.

  She’d tried elevating herself to a new standard. To a place where, if she was lucky, a man like Adam would love her. Funny, though, how now that he supposedly loved her, she had serious doubts. All those times he’d said he wasn’t good enough for her? She should’ve listened. She should’ve run as fast as her legs would carry her.

  She should’ve done all that months earlier, but instead, with one last heartbreaking look down the aisle at the man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with, Charity made up for past mistakes with a few brave current moves.

  She told her father, Steph and Gillian sorry and that she loved them.

  She hiked up her miles of satin train.

  Then ran for the door and one of the many limos she prayed would still be outside.

  “Bug, wait!” Adam cried, knowing the instant he’d seen the cloud descend over his Bug’s beautiful face that his sister had told her the truth. After charging down the aisle, not giving a damn what people thought, he asked his sister, “What’s the matter with you? Why’d you have to tell her? You’ve ruined everything.”

  “I’ve ruined everything?” Her laugh was brittle. “Trust me, Adam, you botched this one all on your own. I was backpedaling for you as fast as I could, but tell me, how was I supposed to smooth over the fact that for all these weeks leading up to your wedding, you’ve been lying like a dirty rug?”

  The crowd of more than two hundred began to chatter, their condemning tones hitting Adam like a rogue wave, roaring in his ears.

  The sweet scent of too many flowers crushed him, closed in on him, making him nauseous as hell.

  Worst part of all of this was that Gillian was right. Every ounce of pain he was feeling was his own damned fault. He was a fool for trying to keep the truth from Charity.

  He was an even bigger fool for believing screw-ups like him got second chances at a happy ending.

  “Well?” Gillian asked. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”

  “Won’t do much good.” With his hands stuffed into his tux pockets, Adam slowly exhaled. “She hates me. What could I ever say to make her give me another chance? She’s already given me about two dozen.”

  “And so just like that,” Joe said, stepping behind his wife, slipping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, “you’re giving up?”

  “Couldn’t have asked that better myself,” Dr. Margaret said, parking herself beside Gillian and Joe.

  Thank God, Charity’s dad and sister were off talking to her mom. Adam’s immediate surroundings were crowded enough without throwing beady-eyed in-laws into the mix.

  “Look,” Adam said. “I screwed up. Again. I don’t even want her to take me back. Lord knows I don’t deserve her.”

  “No,” Dr. Margaret said. “You don’t deserve her, but you need her. And though I haven’t yet had the privilege of meeting your Bug, I have a sneaking suspicion she also needs you.”

  “All that’s well and good,” Adam said, “but how am I supposed to convince her of this supposed need? All she really wanted was a baby. Now that she’s got that, what does she need me for? The woman ran out on our wedding. I’m taking that as a pretty clear sign she despises me.”

  “She might think she does at the moment, but how about giving her a heartfelt apology and one of those cute grins of yours?”

  “I have a cute grin?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “If you didn’t,” Dr. Margaret said, pulling him into a hug, “then why would I have put up with you all this time?”

  “Excellent point,” Gillian said. “Now, Adam, go after her already. I’ve got more than two hundred guests to keep entertained until you bring back the bride, and believe me, after one or two minutes of Joe’s singing, they’re not going to be happy.”

  “Hey,” Joe complained. “I’m a fantastic singer.”

  Gillian snorted. “When you’re in the shower, but—”

  “While you two hash all this out,” Adam said, “I’m going to go find my future wife.”

  Adam was just about to the mansion’s front door when Sam came running up behind him. “Hey, Logue! Wait up!”

  “This isn’t the best time,” Adam said with a sigh.

  “It’s the only time,” Sam said, raising his chin. “I just have to say for the record that if Charity doesn’t forgive you, I get dibs.”

  “Dibs?” With clenched fists, Adam said, “She’s carrying my child.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll love him or her all the same.”

  Bam.

  Adam landed his best right to the jerk-off’s cocky, self-assured face.

  Then, while Sam stood there rubbing his already reddening jaw, Adam said, “Charity’s mine. Her baby’s mine. I love her. And if it takes me every day for the rest of my life to get her back, then I guess I’d best get started.”

  Grinning as Adam stormed out the door, Sam said, “Thanks. That’s all I needed to know.”

  After an hour limo ride back to her place, then thirty more minutes tracking down the building super because she’d left her key
and purse at Gillian and Joe’s, Charity was finally right where she wanted to be. Wearing her rattiest sweats and T-shirt, sitting cross-legged on the sofa with football on TV and a gorgeous, Central African Dicronorrhina derbyana in front of her that she’d received by mail nearly four weeks earlier, but because of all the planning she’d been doing for her stupid wedding to that stupid man she now never wanted to see again, she hadn’t yet had time to mount.

  Fortunately, now that Adam was out of her life, she’d have all the time in the world for bug collecting and watching sports and…

  Who was she trying to kid?

  Hot, racking tears started with no signs of letting up. And then she got sick. And then she remembered she was carrying Adam’s baby, and that no matter how hard she wished him out of her life, she knew darned well she’d always love the guy. She just couldn’t ever trust him enough to marry him. Which—

  Her thoughts were interrupted by banging on her door.

  “Charity!” Adam hollered loud enough to rouse crotchety old Mrs. Kleypus down the hall. Sure enough, Gringo had already started his shrill barking. “I know you’re in there. The limo dispatch record shows this is where the driver dropped you off. Open up!”

  Great. Just fan-freakin’-tastic. Why had she fallen in love with a guy who found missing people for a living?

  “Babe…” He sounded suspiciously short, as if he’d knelt in front of the door and was talking through the eighth-inch slat between the carpet and bottom of the door. “I know I messed up. Big-time. I’m a liar and creep and scum and lower than any life form presently on the planet.”

  True.

  Nibbling her lower lip, trying not to burst into tears again more because she didn’t want to make herself sick than because of lingering feelings she might have for—