White Wedding

by Stacy Claflin

  Genevieve laughed and sat next to him. “Are you sure about that?”

  He leaned against her. “Yes. Do you think we’re crazy having such a quick wedding?”

  She raked her fingers through his hair. “It was your idea, Nicky.”

  “Maybe we should just declare the house off-limits. No reason for anyone to come in.”

  “Except to use the bathroom.”

  “Okay. We can open up the living room and bathroom.”

  She kissed his temple. “We’ve been over this. Our friends and family will want to see the rest of the house once inside.”

  “What everyone really wants to see is the attic where the mummy was found, and that isn't happening.”

  “They might be curious about that, but people really do just want to see our home.” She glanced at the time. “I better check on Tinsley. Want me to get you anything while I’m up?”

  He shook his head no. “I’m going to call Alex for a quick update on how everything is going, then I’ll get back to going through things.”

  Genevieve rose. “You know, we don’t have to get rid of everything that belonged to the televangelist. Everybody will understand what an undertaking it’s been. That’s why we’ve only had Alex and his family over.”

  “You worry about the ceremony, and I’ll worry about the house.”

  She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “If you say so.”

  As Genevieve headed toward the bedrooms, he pulled out his phone and gave his best friend a call.

  “What’s up?” Alex’s voice sounded strained—more exhausted than Nick felt, if that were possible.

  “Are you okay?” Nick asked. “You sound like you’ve been struck by a train.”

  “That’s how I feel. It’s been a day.”

  “Uh oh. What did I miss?”

  “I don’t want to distract you from your wedding preparations.”

  Nick sat up straighter. “I’m the one who called you. Distract away. Is Crawford giving you a hard time?”

  “That’s a given, but we have another missing teen. Are you sure you want to hear about this?”

  Nick’s chest tightened. “You can’t be serious. Is it related to the ring?”

  “It’s Damon.”

  He wasn’t sure he heard Alex right. “Damon’s missing?”

  “Yes. Just one more way for Cal to wreak havoc on my family. Ariana’s about to lose her mind.”

  Nick slumped back down. “I’ll bet. When did this happen? None of my kids mentioned it since they got home.”

  “He disappeared before school, but nobody knew until the afternoon. Damon didn’t show up to lead the study group with Ari.”

  “Wait, what? The schools are supposed to notify parents the moment a kid misses a class.”

  “Computer glitch. I already chewed the office out for not catching it sooner—not that it did any good. Damon’s still missing.”

  “It could’ve been tampered with by someone who didn’t want Damon’s absence to go noticed.”

  “Exactly. His car’s gone, and none of the coffee stands have any footage of him being there. A few had video glitches of their own about the same time, but the baristas can’t remember seeing him.”

  “Who’s in charge of the case? Crawford or Kutcher?”

  “Kutcher. Crawford won’t let me near it. He can’t stand me. I’m still on the silver spoon case, and that’s all I’m supposed to concern myself with for the time being. He’s not even sending me out on calls. What gives?”

  “You aren’t going out for calls?” Nick asked.

  “Nope. Just trying to solve the big murder case. I don’t think he realizes I’m an officer and not a detective.”

  “That’s it!” Nick exclaimed.

  “Huh? That explains nothing.”

  “It sounds like he’s training you to move up to detective. Who does he have you working with?”

  “Anderson.” Realization sounds in Alex’s voice. “I think you’re right. But that doesn’t make any sense. I’m newer to the force than a lot of the guys.”

  “And you have more potential than most of them. Anderson’s our best detective. Loves the job so much, he’s always refused to advance in rank. If anyone can help you move up, it’s him.”

  “That’s insane. Especially since Crawford hates me.”

  “He has a funny way of showing people he likes them. Congrats on that, by the way.”

  “Thanks, I think.” His tone held disbelief.

  “I’m going to head out. I need to let the kids know what’s going on. Everyone needs to be on high alert and stay in pairs. Let me know if I can do anything to help with either case.”

  “Just focus on the wedding,” Alex said. “I’m getting fitted for the tux tomorrow at lunch, right?”

  “Yeah. Show up at the shop anytime tomorrow. They’re expecting you.”

  They said goodbye, then Nick forced himself to his feet.

  Another kidnapping. Anger coursed through Nick’s veins. He had half a mind to drive to the prison and shake Cal Jones until he gave up his son’s location. No, until he gave up the others he was working with. It was a good thing the prison was so far away.

  The weather was still forecasted to be warm and sunny—a beautiful October day. An unusual time for an outdoor wedding in Washington State, but he was going to take it. It was one of the best late summers he’d seen in years.

  Nick found Genevieve helping Tinsley with homework in the old den they’d transformed into a study room. “Where are the other kids?”

  Tinsley looked at him. “Cleaning upstairs.”

  It was still such a relief that she was speaking again after all she’d been through at the hands of the lady in red. He nodded a thanks. “Let’s join them. We need to have a family meeting.”

  Genevieve lifted a brow.

  He gestured for them to come out into the hall.

  Tinsley scampered ahead of them.

  Genevieve put her arm around his waist. “What’s going on?”

  He licked his lips and whispered, “Damon’s missing.”

  She jerked to a stop and stared at him wide-eyed. “What?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull myself away from my vacation.”

  “That’s not my concern. Does anyone have any idea where he is?”

  Nick shook his head. “It has to do with the kidnapping ring, and that means we need to put the kids on high alert. Again.”

  Genevieve tugged on her hair. “Some timing. I hate to sound callous, but do you think this has anything to do with our wedding? Our kids have been targeted by them, and they know your department is working to take them down.”

  He considered it. “Under any other circumstances, I’d say that was unlikely.”

  She frowned. “But you don’t think so?”

  Nick shook his head. “We’re going to have to assume they’ll try something at our ceremony.”

  Chapter 8

  Damon held his breath and looked around for anything that could be used for a weapon. His only option was clothes. He grabbed one from the top of the box and clutched it, ready to do as was done to him.

  The footsteps outside the door grew louder until they stopped.

  His breath hitched, stomach lurched.

  The knob jiggled. Sounds of keys bumping against each other.

  Damon’s mouth dried, and his pulse pounded in his ears. He needed a better weapon. Who was he kidding? Nobody used fabric as a weapon. The only reason the perpetrators got him was because they’d managed to slip something in his drink. He shouldn’t have kept drinking it after noticing the odd taste.

  But there was nothing he could do about that now. Just needed to find a way to escape.

  The lock wiggled some more, then the door cracked open. Whistling sounded.

  What kind of crazy fool whistled at a time like this? Damon squeezed the fabric so tightly his knuckles hurt.

  The door slowly moved forward and the tune grew louder. “Wakey, wak
ey. Time to eat, kid.”

  Damon stood where he was without moving, just clutching the clothing. He could only use it if the man came closer.

  A tall, slender man with bushy hair stepped into the room. He held out a plate.

  Wait. A plate? Damon stared at him in disbelief.

  The man looked around. “You awake?”

  Damon didn’t respond. The guy was either blind or his eyes weren’t used to the dim light in the room. The only light they’d given him was from a child’s nightlight. He didn’t recognize it as one he’d ever used, and that thought sent a shiver down his spine. Where had they gotten it?

  “You have to be awake now, son.”

  “I’m not your son!” Damon snapped.

  A slow smile spread across the idiot’s face, and he turned in Damon’s direction. “So, you are awake. I’ve been given instructions to feed you.”

  “What’d you lace this with?”

  The man laughed. “It’s just food. And given all the puke you left behind in that parking lot, I’d suggest you eat. You never know when your next meal will be.”

  Damon clenched his jaw. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t want food from these people.

  “Cat got your tongue?” The man whistled again. “Well, eat or don’t. I don’t care. It’s your funeral if you don’t. Literally.” He laughed as he leaned down to put the plate on the floor.

  It was Damon’s chance.

  He ran toward the man, ready to hold the fabric over his head until he passed out. Or maybe he would hit him hard enough to distract him for a moment. Then Damon would make his getaway.

  The man let go of the plate, grabbed something from a pocket, and aimed a gun at him. “Not so fast, son.”

  Damon froze in place. Should’ve known that wouldn’t be so easy.

  “You’ve got spunk. I like that. Cal will be proud to know you’re fighting back.”

  “Is my dad behind this?” Damon demanded.

  The idiot laughed. “You think you get to ask questions? Try again.” He cocked the gun. “Just shut up and wait. That’s all you gotta worry about.”

  “Why do you have me here? What’s the point?”

  “Definitely Cal’s kid. Now, put a sock in it.” He stepped outside, slammed the door, and locked it.

  Damon stared in disbelief. Stomach knotting, he leaped over to the door and felt around the knob. A keyhole on this side, too. It locked on both sides?

  Why would Dad have put that there if he didn’t use this room to hold people? How many people had been kept down here while he had been home? The thought made him sick.

  He twisted on the knob, pulled. It did no good. Eventually, he gave up and walked around the boxes and the exercise equipment. Given the room was clearly being used for storage, it must not have been used for holding anyone in quite some time. That offered him a little relief.

  Then a thought struck him. If his dad hadn’t used the room for its intended purpose, that meant he may have left something in a box that could get him out.

  Damon would find it.

  His stomach rumbled. He stared at the small plate with a sandwich and chips like it was a snake ready to strike.

  Did he dare eat it? He had nothing in his stomach, what little had been there was now behind that bush on the side of the coffee shop, and it was anyone’s guess how long ago that had been.

  His mouth watered, and he was tempted to shovel the food in his mouth. No. He needed to find a real weapon first. Or even something that would help him get out. Would Dad have left a key in a box? What if he feared having this room used against him? He might just have done that.

  But if that were the case, he wouldn’t make it easy for Damon to find. He’d have told the captors where it was so they could remove it. Unless his dad wasn’t actually behind this.

  Anything was possible, and the most important thing was getting out.

  His stomach growled again, but he ignored it. He was going to find something to help him make his escape no matter how long it took or how creative he had to get.

  Chapter 9

  Ariana’s alarm woke her. Why hadn’t she turned the thing off before going to bed? She wasn’t planning on going to school, but she’d forgotten about the alarm set to go off every weekday morning.

  She felt around the headboard until she found it. Then she turned it off instead of hitting snooze. Even if she had managed to get a decent night’s sleep, there was no way she was going to school. She could make up the work later. The teachers would have to understand.

  And her parents better not try to make her go. They would have to drag her into the car, literally kicking and screaming. Then she’d keep it up the entire drive and once they got to school.

  She checked her missed calls and texts for anything from Damon, but there was nothing. Just a slew of messages from her friends offering condolences and help.

  What could anyone do? Besides find Damon or talk to Cal? The police were probably planning on visiting him, if they hadn’t already.

  There were too many messages to respond to, so Ari put the phone back where she’d found it and closed her eyes.

  Her mind raced, not allowing her to go back to sleep. How far would Cal go with this? He never had a problem beating up his son, so he’d definitely tell whoever took him to do the same.

  Anger churned in her gut, but it was quickly replaced with worry. Could Damon get away? Had Cal told the men to kill him?

  She squeezed her eyes tightly. The thought made her want to puke, but she couldn’t deny it was a possibility. She’d seen him beat up his own kid.

  The man was a monster in human form.

  And that made her think of her kidnapper years earlier. He was just as bad. He’d have killed Ariana if Dad hadn’t gotten to her in time. She had tried to fight him, but who was she kidding? She’d been eleven at the time. Like she could stand up to a man who had killed plenty of other girls.

  She shook her head. None of this was helping. It was all these thoughts and more that had kept her up all throughout the night and early hours of the morning. It was all too easy to imagine the worst because she knew how bad it could actually get. Every time she drifted off, some horrible thought or image would jolt her awake.

  After tossing and turning a few times, she grabbed her phone and synced her fitness watch. Two hours and thirteen minutes of sleep, and she’d been in bed for eight hours. She also doubted some of the time logged as light sleep. Sometimes when she chilled for a movie, the thing thought she was sleeping.

  Knock, knock.

  Ariana groaned, pulled the blankets over her head.

  Another knock. A creak as the door opened.

  “Are you awake, sweetie?” asked Dad.

  “I’m not going to school.”

  The bed shifted as he sat down on it. “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Isn’t it obvious I’m awake? I’ve been awake most of the night.”

  He rubbed her back on top of the covers. “I understand.”

  “Did anyone find him yet?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. I’m sorry. If I hear anything new at work, I’ll let you know.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. How good could the news be? It was now almost twenty-four hours since Damon last texted her—the last time he talked to anyone.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “My boyfriend.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Dad pulled back the blankets and kissed her forehead. “I promise you that much.”

  She met his gaze. “Why is this happening? I really hate living here. When Damon is found, we need to take him and move far away. I heard Arizona is nice this time of year.”

  “Yes, some parts. But honey, the ring is there, too.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s worldwide. There’s proof of them on every continent.”

  Ari tilted her head. “Even Antarctica?”

  “Every inhabitable continent. And we’re not mov
ing there.”

  “Technically, it is inhabitable. Scientists stay there for months at a time.”

  Dad kissed her again. “Let’s focus on finding Damon for now. We’ll discuss moving there later.”

  She frowned.

  He rose. “I know how you feel, sweetheart. I’m frustrated, too. These people are behind the abductions of numerous people I care about.”

  “You aren’t even allowed on the case, are you?”

  “Not in any official capacity, no. But the FBI agent on the case here in town is keeping me in the loop. She has access to far more resources than I do.”

  “Maybe you should work for them instead.”

  “I think I’ll stick with this. Get some sleep, Ari. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.” She rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head again. As soon as she closed her eyes, she saw images of Damon being tortured.

  It was pointless. She wasn’t getting any sleep now. Ari reached for her phone and searched for articles on the case. Nothing national, just local. Maybe it would have to reach the full twenty-four hours, or worse, forty-eight.

  She checked social media. People were talking about Damon and throwing around ideas—some of them totally crazy, like alien abductions or being eaten by wolves—but nobody knew anything helpful.

  Ariana actually had the best insider information out of any of her friends since her dad was on the force and was talking to that federal agent. She should’ve asked him if anyone had shaken Cal down for answers.

  She checked the time. He might still be home. She could still ask. Or just text him. That wouldn’t involve getting out of bed.

  Ari found their texting conversation and sent a quick message.

  He responded right away.

  Dad: I’m downstairs. Y don’t u come down here?

  Ari: I only got 2 hrs sleep.

  Dad: Then sleep. We’ll talk later.

  She didn’t bother responding. What was the point? Going downstairs to face everybody was out of the question. Not when she was this exhausted and worried.

  A few minutes later, a car started outside. Could be Dad or some other neighbor. Then a little while later, she heard the recognizable squeal of the bus brakes.