Charming Lily (3 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Charming Lily
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“I was on my last nerve back there at the restaurant. No one really ate. It wasn't just Betsy. Did you notice that?”
“I ate everything on my plate, Lily.”
Tears rolled down Lily's cheeks. “I have this awful sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. This whole thing is a charade. I'm just fooling myself.”
“I don't want to hear that kind of talk,” Sadie said fiercely. “Matt Starr loves you. I see the way he looks at you. Don't even think such a thing. Okay, we're here.”
“What would I do without you, Sadie? God, I'm going to miss you.”
“We aren't going to talk about that either. For now we're going to open a bottle of wine and talk about old times. If need be, we'll open two bottles. Okay?”
“Okay.”
 
 
The organist looked questioningly at the minister, who merely nodded. Her signal to keep playing.
The groom was an hour late.
“I'm sorry, Reverend,” Lily said in a choked voice.
“My dear, I have all day. Perhaps something unexpected came up. We can wait a while longer.”
“No. He's not coming. I'm . . . I'm going to . . . leave. Would you mind telling the guests. . . . I can't . . . I'll fall apart. I need to leave here with whatever dignity I can muster. Even if it is by the back door.”
“Lily . . .”
“How could he do this to me, Sadie? How could I have been so blind? I knew. Dammit, I knew, and I still put myself through this. I can't bear to face those people. Reverend, is there a back door?”
The minister led the way to the back door and held it open. “What do you want me to tell the young man if he shows up?”
Lily squared her shoulders. “Reverend, you truly do not want to tell him what I'm thinking. Don't worry, he won't show up. I guarantee it.”
“My dear, is there anything I can do?”
“Yes. Tell that organist to stop playing. Thank you.”
Lily started to sob the moment she got into the truck. “Do I look like a fool to you, Sadie?” she asked.
“Of course not. If I ever get my hands on that guy, I'll choke the living life out of him.”
“Oh God, oh God, he did it to me again. Twice, Sadie!”
“Lily, I have to go to Dunleith Plantation to cancel the reception. I don't think anyone will show up after the minister makes his announcement, but you never know. Will you be all right? I won't be long. It's the right thing to do in case some of the guests do show up. Sometimes people don't go to the church and go straight to the reception. Your guests won't know what to do.”
“I didn't think about that. Go ahead. I'll be okay. You don't need to stand around and watch me bawl my eyes out. I hate him for doing this to me. Do you hear me, Sadie? I hate him. I will never, ever, forgive him for this. Never!”
 
 
It was ten minutes past eight on the cold, rainy evening of his rehearsal dinner when Matt Starr swung his Jaguar off Highway 20 at Vicksburg and headed south on Highway 61. He whistled as he drove, knowing he was going to see Lily soon. He continued to whistle as Gracie, his dog, laid her head on his lap. He drove through the small community of Washington on his way to Natchez. He pulled to a stop at the first intersection and waited for the light to change. He could see the truck scales where Highways 61, 84, and 98 merged. He was almost into town when he noticed the AmSouth Bank's ATM machine in Magnolia Mall. “See, Gracie, everything is working out and coming together. We were in such a rush this morning, I forgot to hit the ATM. A bridegroom needs some money in his pocket. This is just perfect.”
Matt stopped the car, left the engine running, and climbed out. He walked the ten feet to the machine, looking back once to see Gracie watching him. A chill washed over him. The place was deserted. The ten-foot walk to the ATM machine set his nerves twanging. He looked at the lush shrubbery surrounding the bank, knowing he couldn't be seen from the street. Of course it was deserted, it was New Year's Eve. The thought made him feel better.
He stood for a moment, shivering in the light rain that was still falling. The temperature had dropped, too. He could feel the wind through his flannel sweatshirt and light windbreaker. His big toe felt cold, too.
Lily was going to be so happy to see him. Sometimes things just worked out right. He'd finished up all his work and at the last second decided to drive instead of flying, so he wouldn't have to put Gracie in the cargo hold. Besides, he loved driving with the big dog sitting next to him. He could see it now. After the tumultuous greeting, Buzz and Gracie would romp about Lily's apartment while he snuggled on the couch with his soon-to-be bride. And then they would toast in the New Year. He couldn't be happier. His thoughts soured when he thought about how disappointed Lily probably was when she played his message saying he was going to miss the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner because he made the decision at the last minute to drive instead of flying. He crossed his fingers and made a wish that she would welcome him with open arms.
He looked back at the car to see Gracie watching him through the window. Sweet Gracie, so full of love and devotion. She was in fine fettle tonight. She'd been to the groomer the day before and now sported a pink polka-dotted neckerchief. He smiled at the picture she presented. He remembered how he'd laughed aloud when he'd fastened her leash and she'd pranced around, knowing she looked good. Just like a woman. He didn't know who he loved more, Lily or Gracie.
Matt slid his card into the slot, punched in his code, and waited until the bills slid out. He marveled as he always did at how crisp and clean the new twenty-dollar bills looked. The only problem with new money was it stuck together and he had to spit on his finger to separate the bills. There was a lot to be said for dirty, wrinkled money.
He felt the man's breath on his neck, but before he could turn around strong hands cupped his neck in a vise. “Behave yourself, Mister, and you won't get hurt. I just want your money. Now, pretend I'm your best friend and shove that card through the slot again. Do what I tell you.”
Matt half turned but felt a light, warning squeeze to his neck. He could hear Gracie barking inside the car. Anxious but obedient, Matt did as he was told. It was only money, and he had plenty of that. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two more men appear from the back of the bank to stand alongside his car. One of them was antagonizing Gracie. His blood started to boil. “Keep getting money until the machine won't give you any more. How much money you got in that account, Mister?”
“A couple of thousand,” Matt answered truthfully as he stared at the man's hands under the ATM light. No need to tell him how many thousand. Squared-off nails. Clean hands. Paper-pusher hands. Not the hands of a thug.
“Hey you guys, come here. You're never going to guess who this guy is.”
The two men stepped out of the shadows and came closer to peer at the ATM card Clean Hands was holding out for their inspection. None of the three
looked
like they had ever been within walking distance of a computer, so how could his name impress them? He smelled tobacco, an ever-so-faint scent of aftershave, garlic breath, and something else he couldn't define. As far as dress went, they looked better than he did. He started to shiver again but not with fear. He suddenly felt icy cold. He'd read hundreds of stories about people being at the wrong place at the wrong time. He was being mugged. Under a bright light at an ATM machine in a deserted shopping mall on New Year's Eve. This end of town was not where the action was tonight. Let them take all his money and the car, too.
“Hand over your wallet, and we'll take the Rolex, too.” The ATM machine had notified him he had reached the one-day limit on withdrawals.
Matt peeled off his watch and tossed his wallet to the man standing closest to him. He told himself again that it was only money and a hunk of steel sitting near the curb. He'd stopped at this machine on four different occasions on his trips to Natchez and all four times there had been people going in and out of the bank, shoppers going to the big Super Walmart. Tonight the area was empty of cars and the lone security guard. Once he'd actually seen a patrol car. Ten o'clock wasn't that late. The law of averages said there should be at least one person out and about. The rain was light and didn't pose a problem. A chill ran up his spine and then down his arms. He cursed the fact that he'd refused the services of his security team. His competitors all walked around with a bevy of pistol-packing security guards and drove in bulletproof limousines. In his opinion, all they did was call more attention to themselves. He preferred to keep a low profile and blend in with the crowds. Maybe he'd made a serious mistake. If he could just get to the car and his cell phone. It didn't look like that was going to happen. Gracie was barking furiously.
“Headlights approaching,” one of the men hissed.
“Shut that damn dog up and take him out of the car. Don't do something you'll regret, Mr. Starr.”
Matt opened the car door. Gracie lunged against him. Her huge body trembled. He called her to his side and hooked his thumb and forefinger inside her collar. “Shhh, don't make a sound, Gracie,” he said softly. The big dog pressed against his thigh as four young people whizzed by in a pickup truck giggling and laughing, their arms waving in the air. They looked like they were having the time of their lives. They also looked like they were more than a little inebriated. They were probably on their way to a New Year's Eve party. He took that moment to look down at the sidewalk and noticed the shoes on the men's feet. One of them wore expensive Cole Haan shoes. He recognized them because he owned a pair. The second man, who had yet to speak, wore Brooks Brothers wing tips. He recognized those, too, since he'd worn Brooks Brothers shoes since his college days. The third man wore pricey, high-end sneakers. He himself wore Converse high-tops. With a huge hole in the right toe. His eyes narrowed. Maybe this wasn't just your run-of-the-mill ATM hit. Maybe this was something else.
Matt started to jiggle, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he tried to keep warm. The wind was kicking up, and the rain was starting to blow in all directions. “Get in the car. I'll drive,” Clean Hands said.
“Take the damn car. You have my wallet, ATM card, and my watch. You don't need me. My dog is sick, I'd like to get her home. I won't call the police if that's what's worrying you,” Matt said.
“I-don't-think-so. Get in the car and keep that dog quiet.”
Matt climbed into the backseat and sat down. “Carjacking and kidnapping are serious offenses. You could go to jail for a very long time,” he said tightly.
“So's murder. Now shut up.”
“Tell me what you want. This isn't about taking twenty-dollar bills out of my account. It isn't about stealing a Jaguar either. Let's save us both a lot of trouble. Tell me what you want and let me get the hell out of here.”
“This is the last time I'm going to tell you to shut up
” the high-end sneakers man muttered as he steered the car onto Business 61. He made a left turn at the light, drove a half mile on Wilson Road before he hit Highway 555, the Old Pine Ridge Road, then made another right that would take him north to Anna's Bottom.
It didn't look like he was going to make his cozy evening with Lily after all. Matt felt his insides start to shrivel when he pictured Lily making explanations at the rehearsal dinner. The vision of her waiting for him a second time at the altar made him sick to his stomach. Why hadn't he waited till morning to hit the ATM machine? He could have done it at anytime tomorrow. Oh, no, he had to do it tonight. Now look what happened, you sorry son of a bitch.
Where was the damn cell phone? On the front seat? No, Gracie had been sitting on the passenger side. He would have seen it if it was there. It wasn't in the console either. It must either be on the floor or somewhere on the backseat. Shit, maybe he was sitting on it. Gracie whimpered next to him. He patted her head just as something pricked his arm. At first he thought it was a twitching nerve in his arm, then the world turned black.

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