There Goes the Groom (8 page)

Her face paled as his words registered, making him feel like a heel.

Marci slipped up behind her, her face ashen, that confounded wedding dress looking worse by the minute.  “You think whoever shot at me broke in?” Marci whispered.

Dammit, fear flickered in her eyes, sucker punching him, and reminding him that even though she was a suspect in an investigation, she also could have been killed the night before, and it was his job to protect her.

A job he had to take just as seriously as he did finding her fiancé and arresting him.

*~*~*~*

Blast it! Marci wanted nothing more than to shower, change out of her mangled wedding dress and have a drink.

Even if it was eight o’clock in the morning. Surely there was some champagne left that she could drown her sorrows in.

She’d felt as if she was doing the walk of shame as she went to answer the door except that walk usually followed a night of hot sex, and she certainly hadn’t had sex the night before.

Only a night of sleeping with another inmate in her wedding gown. A reminder that her marriage had not happened.

And that her fiancé was on the lamb.

But Detective Muller had ordered her not to touch anything, so here she stood in the same dress she’d been wearing for eighteen hours, twisting her hands like a kid who’d been reprimanded by her teacher.

Hell, if she had touched something he’d probably arrest her again for disobeying him.

For a brief second insanity struck, and she wondered what he would be like in the bedroom.  Just as bossy?

Hmm…

For God’s sakes, Marci, you can’t seriously think about that man and lovemaking. He probably doesn’t know the word.

But he
would
know how to please a woman. She’d bet her best stilettos on that.

If she could find them, that is. They were heinously mixed in with her flats and pumps right now.

The mule-headed man who’d ruined her night glanced around the living room, then stalked to her bedroom as if he was at home.

Of course, he knew the way. He’d searched it for stolen goods.

His dark gaze met hers when he saw the destruction, only this time some emotion actually flickered in the depths. Concern?

Was he worried about her?

Hmm, now that would be interesting…

“The crime unit is on their way,” he said. “Let me take a look around.”

Summoning as much dignity as she could muster in her current situation, she nodded. Kim’s cell phone jangled, and she frowned then stepped into the other room to answer it.

 But Marci remained in the threshold of the door afraid she’d go back to jail if she disobeyed him. She gestured to the mattress. “Did your people do this?”

“No.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I told you we searched your place, but no, we didn’t leave it like this.”

“How do you know?” Marci asked, sure he might lie to protect his buddies.

“Because I was here,” he said, his gaze once again meeting hers.

Marci shivered at the intensity in that look.  The very thought of him rifling through her personal belongings, especially her lingerie, made her stomach flutter.

For a brief second, she sensed that he actually might be upset about the break-in, but another knock sounded, and he jerked his gaze from hers and headed back to the den.

He didn’t wait on her to answer the door but went to it and let two young men in, then introduced them as Eddie and Borus, crime techs.

“Photograph and process the place,” Detective Muller said. “You’ll need the sister and her husband’s prints to eliminate them. We have Miss Turner’s prints on file from the arrest.”

“This could take a while,” he told her. “You may want to go somewhere else for a few hours.”

Marci wanted to scream that all she wanted was her own home and bed and shower. But Kim’s troubled expression as she hung up from her call made her bite her tongue.

“What’s wrong?” Austin asked.

Kim shook her head but averted her eyes, and Marci’s stomach somersaulted. “What is it, Kim?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Kim said. Then she started to take Austin’s arm to pull him aside.

But Marci remembered her earlier guilt over embarrassing her sister and had to know the truth. “Tell me, Kim. What’s wrong?”

The detective was watching, but Marci ignored him. Maybe if she pretended like he was a piece of furniture, a wooden table or chair, she could forget he was in the room.

“Kim?”

“Three of my investors pulled their support for the children’s center,” Kim said quietly. “They…are worried that I was involved in this scheme and may be filing charges.”

Marci literally sank onto the couch, her heart drumming to a stop. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say.

She had screwed her own life up in a big way, and she’d have to live with.

But Kim was the most honest, hardworking, sincere person she knew. And those poor kids depended on her.

None of them should have to suffer because of her.

A tense silence fell across the room, and her stomach pitched as if she might be sick. But she willed the nausea down. In the background, she heard the crime techs searching the place, dusting for prints, invading her privacy even more.

Then they fingerprinted Kim and Austin, and nausea hit her again.

Lord help.  The last thing she wanted to do was throw up in front of the mule headed cop who’d started all of this.

But she had to do
something.

Something to fix it for Kim and those kids.

She took several deep breaths in the silence, the cop’s eyes heating her skin as he watched. Damn him.  Did he have to witness another humiliating moment in her life?

“Kim, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Rallying her anger, she pushed up and planted her hands on her hips.  “Where’s my phone, Detective?”

Detective Muller stiffened.  “It’s right here.”

She was tired of being a victim. She couldn’t just sit back and let things disintegrate even more. “Let me see it.”

“What are you going to do?” Kim asked, a panicked note to her voice.

“Fix things.” She grabbed Austin’s arm on one side and Kim’s on the other. “Take my sister home please.”

“Marci,” Kim said. “Please, I don’t want to leave you alone here.” She gestured at the mess. “Not like this. And not with
him.
”

“I’ll be fine,” Marci said. “I really need some time alone anyway. Thanks for everything. Now go home.”

Kim gave her a beseeching look and halted at the door. “No, come back to our house.”

“Kim,” Marci said through gritted teeth. “The last thing you need is for me to stay with you and ruin your image any more than it’s already been ruined.” She turned to Austin. “Take her home and call those investors and assure them that my sister wasn’t involved.”

“I’ll do my best,” Austin said. “In fact, I plan to call our attorney.”

“Good.” Marci shoved them both through the door.  “Now go. As soon as the cops leave, I’m going to shower and get some sleep.”

Kim squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you.”

Marci nodded, then closed the door.

When she turned back Detective Muller was watching her with raised eyebrows.

“What are you going to do, Marci?” he asked gruffly.

She grabbed the phone. “Just what I told my sister. I’m going to fix things.” She darted into the bathroom, shut the door and locked it.

Tears threatened as she punched her message box to see if Paul had called.

“You made this mess, Paul,” she whispered.  “Now I’m going to find your ass and you’re going to fix it.”

*~*~*~*

He smiled as that gutsy little Marci locked the bathroom door. He had a feeling she would be valuable to him at some point.

And so far he hadn’t had to do anything but watch her. Well, maybe he spooked her a little by tearing apart her apartment.

But the cop and Pendergrass had done the rest.

Now, all he had to do was sit back and wait on the little woman.

She would lead him straight to Pendergrass.

Then his problems would be solved and he would be rolling in the money.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

Detective Muller stared at the closed bathroom door, his pulse clamoring. Geez, Marci Turner had spunk and fire.

She was obviously more upset about the fact that her sister was in trouble than the fact that she was.

Interesting.

He hated to admit it, but…admirable.

So if she loved her sister so much, and she thought she was about to come into a boatload of cash, wouldn’t she have let her sister in on the deal?

Although they were identical twins, just being around the two of them together for a few minutes told him how different they were.

And that Kim and her husband wouldn’t have gone along with the scheme.

Maybe Marci had protected her sister by not telling her about the con she and Paul were running.

Or maybe she’s innocent.

Then again, she might be in the bathroom now talking to Pendergrass and planning their getaway.

The crime techs continued dusting for prints while he stepped onto the stoop and phoned Georgia.  “I’m at Marci Turner’s place. It’s been trashed.”

“So someone else besides us wants Pendergrass?”

“Yeah, enough to kill him.” And maybe kill Marci to get him.  “Did forensics find anything on Marci’s laptop.”

“A lot of stuff,” Georgia said dryly. “But nothing helpful. She has tons of wedding info on there, cake designer sites, hairstyles; hell, her browser history looks like an ad for the home shopping channel.”

Cade remembered the dozens of sexy shoes on the floor of her bedroom and fought a reaction. An image of Marci wearing those red stilettos and that black lacey teddy taunted him.

He shifted, battling a hard-on.

“No hidden accounts?”

“Nada. Judging from her bank statements she lived paycheck to paycheck. Right now, the only thing we could pin on her is not reporting all her tips at the restaurant. And there’s no proof of that.  Hell, she does at least list some of them.”

Jesus. Maybe they
were
wrong about her.

“Keep looking.  And Georgia, check out her sister and her husband’s financials.”

“You think they were in on the scheme?”

No, he didn’t. “I’m just covering all the bases. Kimberly Turner received a call from some investors who believe she is, so we have to check it out. Hell, maybe Marci hid some money in an account in her sister’s name to cover her own butt in case they got caught.”

“Smart thinking,” Georgia said. “They look alike, she could easily have forged her signature or set up a safety deposit box.”

His gut knotted. He hoped she hadn’t, but he wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t investigate the possibility.

Although up close they looked nothing alike. Kimberly was quiet, neatly dressed, conservative.

Marci was just plain…sexy.

A word he could
no
t keep associating with a suspect.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything,” Georgia said.

“Thanks. I’ll keep an eye on Marci tonight.”

“What’s she doing now?” Georgia asked.

“I don’t know, she’s in the bedroom.”

“Hmm,” Georgia muttered.  “Is the door closed or open?”

“Closed. The crime techs are here,” Cade said through clenched teeth.

“You’d better watch out. She could sweet talk them and make them miss something.”

He stepped to the door and saw them taking pictures and fingerprinting the place. “No problems. We’re all professionals here.”

“Sure you are. But every man in pants would be attracted to that woman,” Georgia said with a sardonic laugh.  “Hell, half the
women
in Atlanta would be attracted to her. She has that kind of --”

Power over a man, he almost said.

“Body that’s distracting,” Georgia finished.

He didn’t need a reminder about her body. “Go look up those accounts,” Cade said, irritated as he hung up.

One of the crime techs turned to him, his case in hand. “We’re finished.”

Cade gave a clipped nod. “Let me know if you find anything.”

They agreed and left, and he turned and stared at the bathroom door. What in the hell was Marci doing? There wasn’t a window in there, was there?

No, he would have remembered if there was.

Then the shower water kicked on, and he groaned as he imagined Marci naked beneath the spray of water.

*~*~*~*

Marci turned the hot water to full speed, hoping the sound would drown out her voice if she reached Paul.

She didn’t want mule-headed Muller to hear what she had to say to her fiancé.  She wanted to tell the lying, ratfink, snake off in private.

Stop it, Marci. You can’t convict him until you hear his side of the story
. After all, she was innocent and she’d been locked up for the crime.

He could be, too.

First she punched her inbox and listened to the messages. 

“Marci, this is Zelda French, please tell me that policeman was wrong. You and Paul were such a nice couple. You really did sell us a resort didn’t you?”

Marci winced then clicked the next.

“This is Edwina Phillips, I just talked to my attorney and he said my accounts have been cleaned out. It’s bad enough that resort is just a piece of desert land, but now I can’t pay for Mama’s back surgery, and if she doesn’t have it, she’s never gonna walk again.”

Marci gasped.

Had Paul gained access to the woman’s accounts and robbed her blind?

No…surely he wouldn’t have done that.

But the next fifty messages were variations of that call. Money stolen. Resort land not a resort, just desert. Dreams and hopes for their future disintegrated. They’d have to declare bankruptcy.

Sweet Merna Folkerton, at seventy-six, was going to have to move in with her ninety-three year old mother, and they would be living on social security. And Bitsy Rowenall had saved for new teeth, but now that would have to wait.