The Stolen Bride

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“I’m stubborn, but not that stubborn,” he said. “I like being a cop.”

“You don’t have to convince me about being stubborn.”

“I thought I was downright accommodating in the old days.” After all, he’d poured his earnings from a lawn-mowing job into movie tickets and hamburger dinners, not to mention a couple of tuxedo rentals that nearly broke his personal bank.

“You were, except when we broke up,” she reminded him. “I wanted to talk things over. I wanted to give our friendship a chance. You insisted it was hopeless.”

“Don’t remind me. The past is dead and buried, Erin. If you’re going to be staying with me, we have to agree on that.” He didn’t want things hitting too close to home.

Just being around Erin made Joseph want things he shouldn’t. He’d long ago made his peace with the injustices of the past. He didn’t need a nest of stinging emotions stirred up again.

“Okay,” she said after a long pause. “I agree. Under protest.”

“Duly noted.”

They fell into silence. During the eight-mile drive into town, the gentle rocking of the car, combined with her exhaustion, put Erin to sleep.

A lock of her shoulder-length brown hair, crinkly where she’d brushed it out of its twist, floated in a draft. Joseph imagined how it would feel against his cheek, as silky as a whisper in the night.

In the old days, he’d have slung his arm across the back of the seat and she’d have scooted close. It was ridiculous how natural it felt to be riding with her again, as if the intervening years had evaporated.

He’d expected to fall in love with someone else by now. When one potential relationship after another failed to develop, he’d attributed it to the rigors of a policeman’s schedule and to the difficulty of trusting anyone.

Maybe taking her home with him ran the risk of reigniting an old flame. But under the circumstances, what else could he do?

He returned his attention to his driving. As they made their way through the heart of town, Joseph spotted a luxury sedan like the previous one, again lagging a few car lengths behind them. If it had followed them on the highway, he hadn’t noticed.

He made a couple of turns, and the car disappeared. Gone, he hoped. Most likely a different vehicle.

On Little Creek Lane, which wound through a grove close to his cabin, he caught sight of it again. He hadn’t imagined it; they were being followed.

Erin’s eyes blinked open. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was dozing. I felt the car speeding up.”

“We’re being tailed again.” Before she could sit up, he added, “Stay low.” He didn’t expect the guy to start shooting, but you never knew.

Erin obeyed. “Can you see who it is?”

“Not yet.” Joseph considered his options. The other car hadn’t broken any laws, so he could hardly call dispatch. Normally, he’d pull into a public place such as a gas station, but there was only woodland on both sides and the road was too narrow for him to reverse course.

Although he carried a gun, he didn’t want to risk a shoot-out in the middle of nowhere. While he hated to lead whoever was tailing them to his house, his property would offer cover and a chance for Erin to escape inside.

The funny thing was, the vehicle seemed familiar. Not just because he’d seen it earlier today, either. That particular make, that beige paint—well, they were common enough. The only thing he could say for sure was that the figure behind the wheel didn’t appear as large as Chet.

Maybe it was another resident. Although the houses were set far apart, including vacation cabins that frequently lay empty, it was possible the guy lived nearby. Maybe that was where Joseph had seen the car before.

They passed one driveway, then another. The vehicle didn’t turn. Finally, the only one left was Joseph’s.

“Looks like we’ve got a visitor.”

“Can’t you call someone?” Erin kept low, as he’d instructed. “Cops can call 911, can’t they?”

“Sure. Or I could use my radio. But I’ve been out conducting an investigation against the chief’s orders, and I’ve got a feeling whoever’s behind us wants to talk about it,” Joseph said. “I’m not real eager to bring in the rest of the department unless things get sticky.”

“Okay,” Erin said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you.”

“If there’s any trouble, I caused it for myself.”

He hoped his decision not to call for help wasn’t putting her in unnecessary danger. For himself, Joseph never worried. Except for the pain it would cause his mother, he didn’t fear death nearly as much as disgrace or false imprisonment, the fate his father had endured.

His driveway wound uphill through dense woods. Normally, Joseph enjoyed the sense of leaving civilization behind. In all but the worst weather, he rolled down the windows to enjoy the twitter of birds and the scent of pines. Not today.

With Erin at risk, he had to assume that whoever was tailing them might turn nasty. He made some quick calculations.

“You may have to duck inside,” he said. “There’s a spare gun in the bedroom, in the nightstand.”

“I don’t like guns,” Erin said.

“Ever fired one?”

She nodded. “My dad took me to a shooting range a couple of times. He said I needed to know how to protect myself.”

“Watch out for the recoil,” he told her. “It’s a .38. That’s powerful but we don’t know if this guy’s on drugs, so if you have to shoot him, fire at least two or three rounds. One bullet might not stop him.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t get scared. Get mad.” He’d adopted that slogan as a teenager, and it had served him well. “Okay, enough of the pep talk. When I turn off the motor, I’ll hand you the keys. There are two, one for the car, one for the door. Stay out of sight until I give the word, then bolt for the house. He may not know you’re here, so you’ve got surprise on your side. The bedroom’s the first door to the right.”

“Thanks,” Erin said. “I’ll be okay as long as I know the plan.” She sounded steady and determined. Joseph respected people who kept their heads in an emergency.

Cresting the hill, they came within sight of the cabin. A gravel clearing fronted the wood-and-stone building, which had a carport situated on the far side.

“I’m going to stop in front of the porch,” Joseph said. “If you have to duck out the door, you’ll be right there.” Pulling into the carport would have given him more cover but would slash Erin’s chances of making it inside. “Don’t go until I tell you to.”

“I won’t.”

So far, there’d been nothing threatening about their pursuer other than the fact that he was following them. Unexpectedly, the other car jolted forward, almost hitting Joseph’s bumper. It felt like a threat.

In the rearview mirror, the driver’s eyes met Joseph’s. Cold fury radiated at him.

At least he understood why he’d recognized the car. The man behind the wheel was Edgar Norris.

Judging by the chief’s taut jaw and the angry gesture with his car, he was royally ticked about having his orders disobeyed. That didn’t explain why he’d left the wedding and lit out after them. Or why he emerged from the car with one hand hovering near his gun.

Eleven years ago, as detective lieutenant, Norris had headed the investigation into the robbery-murder of jewelry store owner Binh Nguyen. It was Norris who’d evaluated the evidence against Lewis Lowery, recommended that he be charged and sat at the prosecutor’s side during much of the trial.

He’d never liked Joseph, but he’d always treated him fairly. In return, Joseph had given the chief the benefit of the doubt. Although he was certain his father had been framed, he’d assumed Norris simply failed to recognize that.

Now he wondered if he’d been wrong. And whether his shortsightedness was going to get him and Erin killed.

Chapter Five

Joseph stopped in front of the porch. “Remember the plan,” he told Erin in a low voice.

“You bet.” She didn’t chatter or seek reassurance. Not that he would mind comforting her, but not under the circumstances. “Can you tell who it is?”

“It’s the chief.”

“Why would he follow us?”

He kept his face averted as Norris approached, so he couldn’t be seen conversing. He hoped the chief believed that he’d left Erin at her mother’s house, and he intended to keep it that way. “I don’t know. He looks mad.”

“He wouldn’t shoot us, would he?”

“Let’s hope not.”

After slipping the keys to Erin, Joseph opened his door and eased out to face his boss. He had a good three inches on the chief, but you didn’t judge a man like Edgar Norris by his size. Or by the spare tire around his waist or the fact that he dyed what was left of his hair. He had kick-butt body language and the grit to back it up.

Norris’s fist pounded Joseph’s trunk, making the car creak on its aging springs. “What the hell did you think you were doing when you barged into Erin Marshall’s dressing room?”

“I wanted to wish an old friend well,” he replied evenly.

“Don’t lie to me,” the man growled. “I told you to leave Alice’s case alone. You’re harassing one of this town’s leading families, and now you’ve managed to screw up the wedding of the year.”

“I needed to clarify some points to wrap up my report,” he said. “I didn’t expect to discover that her fiancé had pulled a con job on her.”

“Nobody forced that woman into a bridal gown.”

“There’s more than one kind of force,” he said.

“You don’t know understand the kind of fallout there’s going to be,” the chief snapped. “Do you have any idea how a public humiliation like this is going to hurt Chet Dever’s campaign?”

“What does Chet Dever’s campaign have to do with the Sundown Valley Police Department, other than the fact that your son is managing it?” Joseph shot back. It wasn’t the smartest remark to make under the circumstances. Sometimes retorts flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Although the chief’s face darkened, he kept himself under control. “You’re injecting your personal feelings into police business. When it comes to the powerful people in this town, there’s a chip on your shoulder and everyone knows it.”

“Everyone being Gene?” He’d gone too far, Joseph thought. “I take that back.”

“You’re going to wish you could take a lot of things back,” Norris said. “You’ve made enemies all over town, embarrassed this force and contradicted my direct order. As of right now, I’m busting you back to patrol.”

“Wait a minute!” A demotion made it unlikely Joseph would ever advance in this department or, possibly, any other. Thank goodness the police union had established protections for its member. “I have the right to appeal.”

“I’ll throw in a few more charges to make it look good.” Satisfaction was written all over the chief’s face. “Like the fact that you drew a gun on me.”

“I haven’t touched my weapon!”

“It’s my word against yours. Who do you think people will believe?”

Joseph’s passenger door swung open. Before he could call out that the situation might still be dangerous, Erin’s resolute face appeared above the car. “I think they might believe me,” she said. “I heard the whole thing.”

The chief’s Adam’s apple performed a couple of rapid bobs. “Miss Marshall. I didn’t see you.”

“So I gathered.” She studied him levelly.

“This officer violated a direct order.” Norris recovered a trace of his bluster. “I have an obligation to discipline him.”

“What I don’t understand,” Erin said, “is why you accused him of drawing his gun when I can see that it’s still in its holster.”

She probably couldn’t see that, since Joseph’s holster was beneath his jacket. It didn’t matter. She’d made her point.

The chief gritted his teeth. He wasn’t accustomed to backing down and Joseph knew he’d take his pound of flesh one way or another. Finally, he said, “You’re on administrative leave for a month, Lowery. Paid leave,” he said in Erin’s direction.

“You need to rethink your priorities,” he continued, turning toward Joseph, “and decide whether you’re ready to follow the chain of command or whether you’d rather work somewhere else.”

“And when I come back?”

“There’ll be no action taken unless you do something else to deserve it.” Shutting off further discussion, Norris returned to his car. He gunned the motor, shot backward and spun away. Gravel spattered off Joseph’s car.