There Goes the Groom (15 page)

She tossed the duffel bag to him, then lifted her overnight suitcase. She had to get closer to him, get him to talk so the cops could move in.

“You still think someone framed you?” Marci asked.

The duffel bag hit the floor of the boat, then Paul opened it and dove in.

“I didn’t take any of it if that’s what you’re looking for,” Marci said, unable to hide the edge to her voice.

“I never said you did.”

“Why did you do it?” Marci asked, struggling to see him in his dark hoody and black pants.

The sound of water swishing against the boat echoed in the silence.  Then Paul cursed.  “Don’t you start ragging on me – ”

A gunshot blasted the air, cutting off his sentence.

Marci screamed and ducked to take cover behind a tree. Damn Cade. The cops weren’t supposed to shoot.

Leaves rustled, another shot echoed in the night, then Paul spun the boat around and headed across the river at rocket speed.

“Wait!” she shouted.

But the spray of water from the boat splashed her, and any hope she’d had that Paul had been innocent died.

The other boat darted after Paul’s boat, bouncing in his wake across the choppy water.

Paul disappeared into the darkness on the other side.

*~*~*~*

Cade fired at the shooter, cursing as the man raced through the woods. Dammit to hell. Pendergrass was zipping away in a boat, a second boat was following him, and he had a shooter hiding in the woods.

Branches slapped him in his face as he followed, stumbling over tree stumps in the dark to keep up. Another shot rang out and he ducked as it pinged off a tree near his head.

Another one skimmed his arm, a flesh wound but it still stung. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. The bastard was getting away.

“I’ve lost visual,” Cade snapped into his microphone.

“So have we,” Georgia said into his ear.

“Marci?” He wiped at the blood soaking his sleeve as he slipped from one tree to the next. “Is she all right?”

“Yes,” Georgia said. “The two uniforms are searching to see where Pendergrass put the boat in. Maybe we’ll get him that way.”

Cade cursed. By the time they drove to the other side of the river, he’d be long gone.

He hunched low as he crept around some pines, then the sound of a car engine cut through the night. “Who was in that other damn boat?”

“Hell if I know,” Georgia said. “It’s not one of ours.”

Was it the same shooter who’d fired at the Varsity? Or was that the SOB in the woods?

He climbed through a clump of weeds, then heard a car engine in the distance. Probably the shooter’s getaway car.

Whoever it was must be tailing Marci or else how would they have known about the meeting here?

He jogged back to the clearing toward Marci. Georgia had said she was okay, but he had to see for himself.

“Shooter escaped in a dark sedan,” he said into the mike.

“So far no word on Pendergrass or the other boat,” Georgia replied.

Five minutes later, he made it back to the meet spot and saw Marci trembling as she stood beneath a giant oak.

The urge to comfort her overcame him, and he rushed forward.

The moment she spotted his bloody sleeve, she cried out. “Oh, my god, Cade, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he said, so relieved that she was safe that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the burn in his arm, or the fact that his partner was watching him with disapproving eyes.

He folded Marci in his arms and whispered that everything was going to be all right.    

*~*~*~*

Dammit to hell and back. He’d lost Pendergrass again. The cunning bastard had used the boat to cross the river and probably had a car waiting on the other side. And this time he had the money with him.

He had to call the boss and let him know.

But the boss wasn’t going to like it.

Shit. He hit the steering wheel with his fist, contemplating what to do.

There was only one option. He had to set a trap himself for Pendergrass.

Then an idea hit him – he’d use Marci Turner. Pendergrass might have left her high and dry to face the cops, but he was a con man, not a killer.

If he thought his fiancé was in danger, he’d come back for her.

At least he hoped he would.

It was the only thing he could think of.

The boss might not like it, but he wanted Pendergrass bad. And this was the only way to get him.

Now, he just had to wait until Marci was alone to take her.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

Cade felt Marci lean into him and squeezed her, breathing in her scent.

She could have been killed.

She sighed against him, evoking memories of their earlier kiss, and he nearly lost himself.

But Georgia was watching, and they were on a case, so he forced himself to pull away.

Georgia cleared her throat behind him, then gave Marci a cutting look. “Ms. Turner, you knew he’d come in a boat, didn’t you? Why didn’t you warn us?”

Marci looked stunned.  “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“Really?” Georgia narrowed her eyes. “Does he own a boat?”

Marci shook her head.  “Not that I know of.” She winced. “Of course, it’s obvious that I don’t know much about Paul at all.”

“Is it?” Georgia asked. “Or are you just a good liar?”

Cade clenched his jaw.  “Marci, do you have any idea where Pendergrass would go now?”

Marci’s hand shook as she shoved her fingers through her hair.  “No. We’d planned to honeymoon in Tahiti, but you know that already.”

“Did he mention any other property he owned? Family anywhere?”

“His mother died two years ago,” Marci said. “And his father is a businessman who travels all over Europe. I thought it was odd he didn’t make it to the wedding, but apparently he was in the middle of an important deal that meant millions.”

“None of that is true,” Georgia said flatly.  “Paul Pendergrass grew up in poverty. His mother is still alive and lives in a shanty outside New Orleans.”

Marci gasped.  “What? That can’t be true.”

“I’m afraid it is true,” Cade cut in softly.  “Pendergrass isn’t his real name either. It’s Podinsky. He grew up with nothing, Marci. We think that’s what motivated him to become a con artist to accumulate his fortune.”

“And why he wanted a big showy, society wedding,” Marci muttered to herself. “Even though he knew it would be risky. His ego needed it.”

“Let’s don’t start feeling sorry for the creep again,” Georgia said.

“Don’t worry,” Marci said sharply. “Every time I think about what he did to the sweet women at the club, I want to strangle him.”

“We’ll see that he pays,” Cade said.

Georgia patted her gun attached to her hip, but her look toward Marci softened. “You did your part,” Georgia said. “So go home, Ms. Turner. But if you hear from him again, let us know.”

Marci frowned at Georgia. “Right. Like you don’t have my phones tapped already.”

Georgia gave Cade a dirty look, but he shrugged it off. He hadn’t had to tell Marci.  She was a lot smarter than Georgia had given her credit for.

He aimed a challenging look at Georgia. “See if you can narrow down the suspect pool for the shooter. Pendergrass may be gone, but someone else wants him. Marci could still be in danger.”

Marci’s eyes widened at his statement, and he placed a hand at the small of her back. “Come on, Marci. I’ll drive you home.”

“You really think he may come back after me?” Marci asked as they wove back through the woods to her car.

“I don’t know,” Cade said, his chest tight. “But if he does, I’m going to be there to stop him. And this time he won’t get away.”

*~*~*~*

Marci struggled with the truth as Cade drove her back to her apartment. Paul had lied to her about his family. His name.

Everything.

She couldn’t believe anything that he’d said now.

Especially that he’d loved her.

Why did all the men in her life leave her? First her father. Now Paul.

She lapsed into silence until they arrived at her place, then Cade followed her up the steps. She stiffened when she saw him scanning the property, one hand planted over the gun beneath his jacket.

He really thought the shooter might come back for her…

The keys jangled as she tried to open her door. With an impatient sigh, Cade took the keys and unlocked it for her.  Unnerved by the night, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a big glass of wine.

“Would you like one?” she asked, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of being alone with Cade. The memories of them almost making love were too fresh in her mind. Too tempting.

“You have a beer?”

She nodded, reached into the frig and handed him one.

“Thanks.” He shrugged. “I don’t usually drink on the job, but …”

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “It’s been a rough night.”

His dark gaze latched with hers and her body tingled.

She had to distract herself from wanting him. “What else don’t I know about my ex-fiancé?” she finally asked.

Cade sighed as if he didn’t want to tell her. “Marci – ”

“It’s okay,” she said, bracing herself.  “I can take it.”

He glanced at her for a moment, regret lining his chiseled face, then he gave a clipped nod. “So far, we think he had two other aliases. He could have had more, but that’s all we’ve dug up to date. The first was Paul Phillips. The second Paul Pollock. Pendergrass would be his third.”

“So he sticks with double Ps,” she said dryly. “Probably makes it easier to keep the monogramed handkerchiefs he always carried.”

Cade winced. “Probably.”

She propped one hip against the kitchen counter. “What else?”

“He started out in Florida with real estate,” Cade said. “Then he went to Texas and racked up big time with some ranch property. The two ventures probably triggered the idea for the Desert Sand Resort.”

“Hmm.”

Cade took a sip of his beer. “The two men at your wedding, the best man was one of Paul’s partners, and so was the preacher.”

“I take it he wasn’t a real preacher.”

“Afraid not.”

She stared into the wine glass, contemplating that revelation. “So our marriage wouldn’t have even been legal.”

“No. He’s been married twice before, not divorced.”

“So he’s a bigamist, too.” Marci released a nervous laugh and rubbed at her forehead where a headache pulsed.  “What else?”

“We think there may be an even bigger partner,” Cade said. “He’s an older guy, astute looking. We have photos of him in jail with Paul.”

Marci swung her head toward Cade.  “Paul served time?”

“Not for long,” Cade said. “It was early on, some petty stuff. But we think that’s where he met this other man.”

“What’s his name?”

“Harvey Tuckman,” Cade said. “Some lawyer managed to bail him out, and he’s been in the wind since.”

“I can’t believe all this,” Marci said. “How could I have been so blind?”

Cade took another long pull on the bottle, then wiped his mouth.  “Look how many people he conned, Marci. You weren’t the only one who trusted him.”

Sick at the thought of him touching her, using her, laughing at her, she turned her glass up and drained it.

Any guilt she had for wearing the wire fled.

Still, she felt ill and wanted the blasted thing off.

“Maybe he did love you,” Cade said softly.

Marci shoved her shirt up and jerked at the wire.  “You don’t lie to people you love.”

Cade reached out and gently touched the wire.  “Here,  let me. You’re going to rip off your skin if you aren’t careful.”

His touch sent a million sensations through her. “He targeted me because I was friends with the seniors who came in at the restaurant,” she said, finally catching on as she mentally climbed into Paul’s head.  “And I knew several ladies from the hair salon.”

Cade removed the wire and tossed it on the counter, his breath rattling in the silence. “Listen, Marci, stop beating yourself up.”

“I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” Marci whispered.

She reached for the wine bottle to pour herself another drink, but Cade caught her hand and squeezed it. “No, you’re not. Even my grandmother fell for his spiel.”

“Your nana hates me,” Marci said, her heart aching as she remembered his grandmother’s assault with her purse.

“She was just upset,” Cade said in a low voice.

“She had a right to be,” Marci said miserably.  “Whether I meant to or not, I helped Paul cheat those people.” She looked into Cade’s eyes. “How can I ever make that right?”

A muscle ticked in Cade’s jaw. “You started doing that tonight,” he said softly.  Slowly he slid one hand into her hair and pulled her closer.  “You were brave to go after him.”

Marci wanted to believe Cade. To trust him.

But what if he didn’t care about her either?

Then he closed his mouth over hers, and she forgot about Paul and Nana Muller and the guilt eating at her. All she could think about was how erotic it was to have Cade’s lips against hers.

And that she never wanted to let him go.

*~*~*~*

Cade knew touching Marci was wrong. But the heat in his body pushed him to cross the line.

And there was no going back.

Not when Marci melted against him and threaded her fingers into his hair. Not when her tongue darted into his mouth to tease him.

Not when her soft breath whispered against his neck as she lowered her head and nibbled at his neck.

She shouldn’t have stripped that shirt in front of him. Granted she’d been frantic to remove the wire, but one touch of her soft skin had heated his blood to a fiery pitch.

Need like nothing he’d ever experienced drove him to unfasten that lacy black bra. Her beautiful breasts spilled into his hands and he moaned, driving his mouth over hers again as he kneaded her flesh in his hands.

Marci curled into him, her nipples puckering against his palms as he brushed them over the delicate nubs. Suddenly she was driving him, pushing him backward, pulling him toward her bedroom.