There Goes the Groom (2 page)

In fact, they wouldn’t be sharing a bed at all.

Not even a prison cot or a cell.

Satisfied Pendergrass didn’t plan on leaving his beloved intended at the altar, Cade turned his gaze toward Marci.

His breath caught in his chest as she stepped into the limelight. Criminal or not, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Her striking red hair tumbled around her beautiful heart-shaped face, her eyes glimmered with the kind of erotic playfulness that made a man fantasize about all the naughty things he wanted to do to her, and those ruby red lips were enough to make a man sink to his knees from wanting her.

She was wasting her talents on the little blue-haired ladies.

Pendergrass had that covered. If they were smart, Marci would be seducing men out of their money.

Then again, maybe Pendergrass was the jealous type.

Hell, if he had a knockout like Marci Turner, he wouldn’t want another man looking at her, much less touching her either.

Forcing his mind off of sex and the primal urges his suspect stirred, he focused on the case instead and reminded himself that no matter how sweet and innocent she appeared to be, or how outrageously sexy and wanton her voluptuous body was, she was a cheater and a liar.

She fiddled with her veil, slid her hand beneath it and scratched at her neck as if she had a sudden itch, then a panicked look crossed her face.

Was Marci Tuner having second thoughts? Was she about to bolt and leave her fiancé stranded at the altar?

A smile stretched his face. Seeing Pendergrass get jilted after all he’d done to deceive others would be sweet justice.

But Marci took a deep breath, then licked those amazing lips and started down the aisle. Normally she wore mini-skirts and form fitting low-cut tops at the restaurant, so the simple, almost conservative wedding dress surprised him.

Obviously Pendergrass had convinced her he was her ticket to society.

He patted his weapon beneath his jacket, anxious to put an end to that little fantasy.

As Marci approached Pendergrass, he gave her an adoring look and cradled her hand in his. Cade inched up the room on the opposite side from where Georgia stood, remaining in the shadows of the white curtains as if he were one of the serving staff.

Adrenaline pumped through him as the man in charge of the nuptials began the ceremony, and he waited for his cue to stop the wedding.

He couldn’t wait to see the looks on the couple’s faces when he exposed them as frauds, and they realized their little con game was over.

*~*~*~*

He stood at the back of the church eyeing the fancy smancy decorations, and all these people dressed to the hilt in their designer suits, tuxes and flowing gowns. Pendergrass had outdone himself this time.

But he had crossed the line.

His hand slid to the inside pocket of his own tux jacket and he smiled. One clean shot was all it would take.

Pendergrass deserved it.

And his bride?

Hmm…he had no idea if she was his latest eye candy or if she had been part of his scheme.

Not that he cared.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

Marci’s legs were pinging like rubber bands making her feel drunk already. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she felt the telltale signs of the rash exploding on her chest.

Heck, maybe she was allergic to the roses.

Yes, that was it. She had never been around so many flowers in her life. The overpowering smell was giving her a headache, and the petals must be causing a physical reaction.

She was
not
nervous about marrying Paul. Paul was perfect.

He squeezed her hands in his, and her heart sputtered. They had planned a wonderful life together. Paul had made a mint off the resort properties he’d been selling and had already bought them a mansion in Buckhead complete with a pool and outdoor kitchen. Not that she would actually cook out there during the muggy mosquito-laden summer nights, but he insisted they’d need it for entertaining. Or heck, maybe Buckhead didn’t have mosquitos like the burbs.

Of course, Paul had other properties all over the world so they would be traveling a lot. She’d always wanted to see other cities like Venice and Paris and London.

The shopping would be amazing.

Then she glanced at Kim and saw the tiny frown line knitted between her eyes and realized that Kim had lied.

She
did
have reservations about Paul.

Holy moly. Her sister might be practical and boring, but she always seemed to sense when Marci was in trouble.

Was
she in trouble now?

Her mother’s outlook on marriage echoed in her head.
Marriage is not for girls like us, Marci
.

Girls like us? Fun-loving, carefree, lively spirits with whimsical tastes and a love for sex and passion.

Sex and passion died once the honeymoon was over.

Another bit of her mother’s sage advice.

Panic made her pulse jump, but Paul pulled her closer, and she glanced up and saw his eyes roving over her with such love that her fears faded like raindrops on hot pavement.

Today was her day, and she refused to let her mother’s nagging voice or Kim’s fretting or her own traitorous insecurities ruin her Cinderella wedding.

Pastor Joe, one of Paul’s college buddies who’d gotten his license over the Internet, cleared his throat.  “Today is a glorious day. Paul Pendergrass and Marci Turner have come together to recite their nuptials.”

His tanned face glowed an orange shade in the candlelight service, and Marci almost broke into giggles. She laughed when she was nervous.

Not good during a funeral but during a wedding was tolerable.

Still, Paul frowned at her.

Get a grip, Marci. This is a high-class wedding
. Why, the wedding coordinator at the country club had even pulled strings to have a society columnist here to showcase their event!

Although for some reason that escaped her, Paul hadn’t been very happy about that, and so far had avoided the woman.

Her heart melted again. He was so kind but so modest.  He must not like all the attention.

“And now it’s time for the recital of the couple’s vows.” Pastor Joe smiled and glanced across the room at the lace-draped seats filled with their friends. “But first as tradition holds, I must ask. Is there anyone here who has just reason to oppose this wedding? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

For a moment, Marci tensed, terrified all the exotic, rich, more educated worldly women from Paul’s past would fly out of the woodwork like bees and scream that they had to stop the wedding. But not a single gorgeous blond, sexy brunette or fiery redhead shot up from their seats.

Although the crowd shifted restlessly. And a dark-haired man emerged from the white curtains to the side. He had the body of a linebacker and eyes so dark they looked black. He was also stalking toward them like some kind of predator.

Her heart sputtered. What in the world was he doing? He almost looked as if he was going to protest.

Impossible. No…he had to be part of the wait staff. But if there was a problem with the reception, couldn’t he wait until they said their I Dos?

Pastor Joe shifted nervously, then jerked his head toward the man, his right eye twitching.

Paul gripped her fingers so tightly she thought she heard one of the bones crack. And she could have sworn panic flared in his eyes.

“Let’s move on then,” Pastor Joe said hurriedly.

“No.” The big hulking guy threw up a hand.   “I can’t hold my peace.”

Marci gasped. What in heaven’s name?

“Paul?” she squeaked.

“Paul Pendergrass and Marci Turner.” The man flashed a badge. “My name is Detective Cade Muller. You are under arrest for one hundred and ten counts of fraud.”

Marci gaped at him in shock, then turned to Paul just as the detective yanked a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“This is a mistake,” she whispered. Surely her fiancé would clear this up in seconds. “Tell them, Paul.”

But Paul was so pale he looked like he might faint. A second later, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek, then mouthed the words, “Dammit, Marci, I told you not to run that picture in the paper!”

With a jerk of his hand, he released her and took off running.

*~*~*~*

The son of a bitch was running.

And leaving his bride behind.

Coward.

Marci hiked up her dress and started chasing after him.  “Paul, come back here!”

“There goes the groom!” someone shouted.

The crowd erupted into shouts and pandemonium. Cade vaulted in action, chasing after Marci who was chasing Pendergrass.

The damn man wove through the crowd of blue-hairs who must have thought their prince charming was innocent, because they parted like the Red Sea creating a path for his escape, then seemed to gather and move in herds to block his way.

“He is not a fraud!” several women shouted.

“How dare you ruin this wedding!” a haughty voice yelled.

“Marci, wait!” Kim toddled after Marci, her husband Austin shouldering his way through the milieu to help out.

Pastor Joe and the best man disappeared behind a back curtain. Georgia was closer so she dashed after them.

Suddenly a gunshot exploded.

Screams filled the air as the guests ducked and began to run, scattering like ants at a picnic.

Cade pulled his own weapon, pivoting to see where the gunshot had come from. The left maybe? Behind the curtain?

Another shot rang out, and Marci screamed as it sailed by her head. The groom jogged toward the door, stooping down to dodge the bullets.

Guests knocked over chairs and banged tables in their haste to escape, ripping lace bows and tripping over each other. Cameras flashed, a little lady in a pink dress fainted, creating another scene as shouts for a doctor echoed through the room.

Marci’s dress caught on the heel of her shoe, and she ripped them off and flung them to the side. They hit a table of booze, and scotch and bourbon bottles crashed to the marble floor, the rich brown liquid flowing like a brown river.

 Pendergrass slammed into the table holding the wedding cake, and the three-tiered wedding cake toppled over. Kim slipped in the frosting, but her husband managed to catch her just in time before she hit the floor.

Cade didn’t know whether to go after the damn shooter or Pendergrass. He tapped his mike, hoping Georgia heard.  “We need back up in here. Shots fired!”

 Marci raced past the vases of flowers in the foyer of the country club to the entryway, and he followed, close on her heels. A black limousine sat in front of the club awaiting the happy couple to carry them to their honeymoon night, but Pendergrass jumped into it like it was a getaway car.

Cade saw the driver and realized it was Vinny. Pastor Joe was in the front seat. The car accelerated, and the vehicle raced off.

A few feet down, a Camaro roared to life and followed.  The shooter?

Where the hell was Georgia?

A moan erupted from the columns to the right, and he spotted her lying on the ground by a row of azaleas and hurried to her.  “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Georgia said. “I’ll put an APB on the limo and that Camaro. Go get the bride!”

Guests spilled out of the building, flooding the steps and pristine lawn, cameras flashing.

“Paul, don’t leave me!” Marci wailed as she ran after the limo.

The limo was going so fast Marci couldn’t catch them, so she darted to the right toward a beat-up VW.

Dammit, she wasn’t going to get away, too.

Cade dashed down the steps two at a time, sped up and caught her just as she grabbed the door handle.

“Marci Turner,” he said as he gripped her arm.

Marci tried to jerk away. “Stop it, you’re hurting me.”

He eased his hold on her but didn’t release her. Instead he whipped out his handcuffs, spun her around and forced her to face him. “Then stop fighting me, or I’ll add resisting arrest to the charges against you.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes, glittering like diamonds on her eyelashes.

He gritted his teeth. Holy hell. He felt like he was kicking a frail kitten.

Then he reminded himself of the charges against her, of all the footage he’d watched of her and Pendergrass sweet talking little old women out of their savings, and he hardened himself.

For God’s sake, his own grandmother had fallen for their stunt.

Marci Turner was no kitten.

She was a dangerous tiger in disguise.

“Please, I need to go after him,” Marci whispered. “You’ve made a terrible mistake. Paul will clear this all up.”

“Save it for your lawyer.” He spun her around, shoved her hands behind her back and fastened the handcuffs.  She might be sexy and a good actress, but he would not fall for her charms.

A little voice inside his head whispered --
she’s innocent until proven guilty.

But he closed his mind to the thought. How many perps had he arrested that were actually innocent?

None.

Besides, she was marrying Pendergrass. That made her guilty in his book.

There was no way she’d gotten that close to the crook and not known what he was up to.

*~*~*~*

Marci nearly choked on a sob as the detective snapped the handcuffs around her wrists. Dad blast it! How had this happened?

This was supposed to be her Cinderella wedding, and now it had turned into a fiasco.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be held against you…”

The big bull of a cop’s words faded as Marci saw the society columnist snapping photos. The lawn of the country club was a mass of well-dressed shocked guests who, on close scrutiny, had torn lace, satin bows and cake on their shoes.

And judging from their mutinous looks, they were either going to defend her or tar and feather her.

But her heart was hurting too much to worry about them right now. This man had not only ruined her wedding with these ridiculous claims, but Paul had run off and left her!