There Goes the Groom (17 page)

Kim’s scream echoed behind her as the world twirled, and she fell into the darkness.

*~*~*~*

Cade gritted his teeth as Georgia burst into laughter.

“I knew it,” Georgia muttered. “You screwed her. And you screwed up the case.”

Cade grunted.  “Just uncuff me and save the lecture.”

“What happened?” Georgia jammed the key into the lock and twisted it. “She like it kinky?”

“Very funny.” Cade shoved himself off the bed and grabbed his shirt. “I confronted her about that picture of her and Sebastian Zuckerman.”

Georgia arched a brow. “So she ran because you nailed her?”

Cade didn’t miss the double entendre. “Not exactly.”

 Georgia retrieved her phone from the pocket of her blazer. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could put an APB out on her?”

“Because the woman in the picture wasn’t her; it was her twin.”

Georgia crossed her arms. “Really? Now the sweet twin is in on it, too?”

“I don’t think so,” Cade said, yanking on his socks and shoes.

“But we have the sister meeting with Pendergrass’s partner?”

“The man in that photo’s name isn’t Sebastian Zuckerman,” Cade said.

“And we haven’t established that they are partners.” He hoped to hell they weren’t or things would get a whole lot more complicated for Marci.

Georgia looked confused. “But we will.”

“Maybe.” Hell, if he knew.  “The thing is – his real name is Samuel Turner. He’s Marci and Kim’s father.”

“Jesus, this gets better and better. They’re all in it together.”

The look of pain in Marci’s eyes taunted him. “I don’t know what’s going on, Georgia, but I don’t think we have the whole story. Marci claims she hadn’t seen her father in years, and she was genuinely surprised that Kim had.” He grabbed his phone to call Marci.  “She was also shocked that her father knew Pendergrass.”

He was just about to punch Marci’s number when his cell phone jangled. He checked the caller ID display hoping it was Marci.

But the display read Kimberly McDane.

“Who is it?” Georgia asked.

“Marci’s sister.” He punched connect.  “Detective Muller speaking.”

“Detective, it’s Kim, you have to help.”

His chest clenched at the panic in her voice. “What’s wrong? Is Marci with you?”

“No, she came by, and she was upset, then she ran out of the house, so I tried to catch her, but this man…” her voice cracked on a sob.

Sweat trickled down his neck. “What happened?”

“He had a gun, and he hit her over the head, then he put her in his car and took off.”

Cade squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach sinking.

He had to find Marci.

*~*~*~*

Marci stirred, her head throbbing as she twisted to see where she was, but it was dark and her vision was blurry. She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind was foggy.

Slowly memories flooded her. The wonderful night with Cade.

The horrible morning after.

Yep, as far as morning-afters, this one topped the worst list – last year, when she’d woken in Vegas in the back of a hippie van with a guy who thought he was a zombie.

Pinpricks of light seeped through the faded sheers as she glanced around, and realized she was in a hotel room. The neon sign outside blinked pink letters, and the blare of trucks whizzing past and horns echoed from the road nearby, shaking the room.

She blinked to adjust her eyes, another sharp reality hitting her. She was tied to a chair.

The sound of footsteps shuffling made her head jerk toward the door, then the door opened and the monster who’d hit her walked in.

Fury mounted on top of the fear crowding her chest. Odd, this monster was dressed in a blue shirt and gray slacks. He was big but not as tall as Cade, had shaggy  hair with flecks of gray and a mole on his forehead.

“So, the little princess is awake?” he said with a chuckle.

Marci glared at him. “Why have you been trying to kill me?”

He put the paper sack down on the cheap dresser, and she realized he had coffee and doughnuts.  “I haven’t been trying to kill you.”

“You shot at me,” she said, fidgeting with the ropes binding her hands behind her back.

He took a sip of coffee then sat down on the edge of the bed. “I was trying to scare you off so I could catch Pendergrass. That asshole was my target.”

“What?  He stole money from you, too?” Marci asked.

He shrugged. “Not exactly. I’m working for someone else.”

“Who?”

“You ask too many damn questions, Marci.”

Marci twisted in the hard chair. “Are you going to shoot me now?”

“I might if you don’t stop talking.”

She clamped her mouth shut then glanced around the room, searching for an escape. There was only one door in, one door out.

Marci wigged, rocking the chair. “I have to pee.”

He made a sound of disgust. “Good try. There’s no window in there.”

Shoot.  “My feet are falling asleep,” Marci said. “I need to get up and stretch.”

“And I need a fucking blow job,” he growled.

She stiffened. He didn’t expect her to offer, did he?

Nerves fluttered in her belly, and she realized she really did have to pee.

“Please,” she said. “You don’t want me to wet the floor, do you?”

He took another sip of his coffee, then stood with a huff. “You are such a pain in the ass. I can see why Pendergrass ran off without you.”

Marci felt like she’d been slapped. “You’re one to talk. You’re nothing but a loser kidnapper.”

He raised his hand to slap her, and Marci reared back, then his phone buzzed and he dropped his hand.  “Don’t make a sound.”

She chewed her bottom lip while he stepped outside to answer the call. Desperate to find a way out, she scanned the room for a weapon or a pair of scissors.

Zilch.

Maybe there was a plastic knife in the bag with the doughnuts. She tried to scoot the chair forward, but her bound hands and feet made it difficult. The chair teetered once, twice, and she caught herself with her foot and steadied the chair.

Then she started all over, slowly moving her body to make the chair inch toward the bag, but she pushed too hard and the chair fell forward.

Her face hit the floor and she tasted dirt and cheap carpet.  She spit out the dirt and struggled to roll to the side, but the door swung open.

“Jesus, lady, you’re going to drive me crazy.” He lumbered forward, jerked the chair back up to a sitting position, then planted himself in front of her, face to face.

“Listen to me and listen good. I need you to make a phone call to your fiancé and persuade him to meet you again.”

“Perfect,” Marci said. “I was planning to do that anyway.”

“You were going to run off with him?”

Marci hedged. She had no idea whether to tell this goon the truth or not.  “That’s none of your business.”

He raised the gun, the shiny metal glinting in front of her. “I’m making it my business.”

She forced a bravado to her voice. “I was going to ask him to meet me then let the police know.”

A smirk crossed his face.  “Now that’s better. Cooperate with me, Marci, and this will soon be over.”

What did he mean by that?

It would be
over
?  
She
would be over?

Was he going to off her once she helped him find Paul?

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

Cade punched Marci’s number for the tenth time as he drove to Kim’s.

When he and Georgia arrived, Kim was frantic, and her husband was trying to console her.

“This is all my fault,” Kim cried.  “I should have told her about Dad calling, but I had to see what he wanted first.”

“What
did
he want?” Cade asked.

“To warn her to stay away from Pendergrass,” Kim said.

Georgia exchanged a look with Cade. He knew what she was thinking. That he didn’t want Marci to find out they were both crooks.

“Why didn’t he call Marci about Pendergrass?” Cade asked.

“Because I’m the practical one.” Kim paced the length of her den. “Marci’s more emotional, so tenderhearted, and she took Daddy leaving so hard that I think he was afraid to face her.”

“It was just as much my fault as yours,” he told Kim. “I…handled things poorly.”

Georgia shot her a sharp look as if to say that was an understatement.

“But I’m her sister,” Kim said. “I was supposed to protect her, take care of her.”

He
was the one who was supposed to protect her.

Austin rubbed his wife’s back. “It’s not your fault, Kimmie. Marci’s impetuous and acts out of her heart.”

And he had broken it as badly as Pendergrass. 

“But she trusted me,” Kim wailed.

“She trusted me, too,” Cade said, self-loathing consuming him.

Georgia pressed her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle. Kim startled, but stopped sobbing, and he jerked his head toward her.

“Enough,” Georgia said. “This is all very touching. But it’s not helping find Marci or Pendergrass.”

Cade snapped back to professional mode. She was right. “Georgia, check and see if the tech team has picked up anything on Marci’s cellphone.”

She nodded and stepped in the kitchen to make the call.

Cade raked his hand through his hair. “Kim, can you give me a description of the man who took Marci?”

Kim visibly tried to pull herself together. “I didn’t get a good look but he was medium height, a little beefy. Dark hair, sort of shaggy.”

“Did he have any distinguishing marks? A tattoo or scar?”

Kim massaged her temple, her brows puckered. “Oh, yeah. He had a mole in the middle of his forehead.”

Cade nodded. “Good. What about the vehicle he was driving?”

“A black sedan,” Kim said, wiping at her eyes. 

“Two door or four?”

She had to think a minute. “Four. And the windows were tinted.”

“Did you get the make or year?”

She scrunched her nose. “No. I’m sorry, it happened so fast, and I was scared.”

Austin squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll find her.”

“But what if he hurts her?” Panic flared in Kim’s eyes.

“Don’t think like that,” Austin said. “This guy might just be another distraught victim of Pendergrass’s scam who wants his money back.”

Yeah, and he intended to use Marci as bait. Cade didn’t like that fact.

Kim’s chin wobbled, reminding him of her sister and making his gut twist with worry.

What was the man doing to Marci now?

Kim clutched her husband’s arm. “But he had a gun and he hit Marci over the head and …”

“Shh,” Austin said softly, pulling her back down to sit on the sofa.  “The police are going to find her, won’t you, Detective?”

“Yes, we will,” he promised.  He just hoped she was alive when they did.

Footsteps clattered, and Georgia appeared in the threshold of the doorway.  “The tech team is working on that trace now.”

“Kim just gave me a description of the man who took Marci.”  Cade angled his head to Georgia. “Why don’t you go with her and Mr. McDane to the station so she can look at some mug shots?”

Kim stood. “Yes, I can do that. Anything to help.”

Cade’s cell phone trilled, and he jerked it up. “Detective Muller.”

“It’s Taylor Cartwright in the tech department. We have a trace on Marci Turner’s phone. She’s on the move.”

Cade motioned to Georgia. “Give me the coordinates. I’m on my way.”

He motioned to Georgia to accompany Kim and her husband then he raced toward his car.

He had to save Marci.

*~*~*~*

Marci forced air through her lungs, readjusting her eyes to the new location. They were in a wooded area, a cabin on Lake Lanier. The smell of honeysuckle surrounded her, the swish of water against the bank so familiar that a pang of nostalgia washed over her.

The thug who’d kidnapped her had blindfolded her on the ride, but she’d recognized the location as soon as he’d dragged her from the car. She and Kim had skipped school during the winter to cruise with their friends around the rental properties and campsites, helped their mother decorate her cabin for Christmas with garland and peppermint sticks, spent summers skiing on the lake and having picnics, swimming at the beach at Lake Lanier Islands, trying to catch the boy’s attention as they sunbathed in their bikinis.

Well,
she
had tried to attract boys.

Kim had skipped some of the fun to study for the SAT’s.

No wonder her sister was happily married to a great guy, and she was tied up at gunpoint, had been arrested for her part in a con game and was …still sore from making love all night to the man who’d arrested her.

Because she’d always acted on her hormones.

The goon who’d kidnapped her checked the locks, then shoved her onto the leather sofa and glared at her as he punched Paul’s number. “Time to get this show on the road.”

She stared at that nasty mole on his forehead. “You should get that checked. It could be a melanoma.”

He jerked her chin, his rancid breath bathing her face.  “You should keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.”

The moron had no idea who he’d kidnapped -- she’d never kept her mouth shut or obeyed anyone in her life.

“Or you’ll do what? Kill me?” Marci said, fidgeting with the ropes. “What good will that do you?”

He growled an obscenity. “At the moment it might give me pleasure.”

The ropes cut into her wrists. Drat. Now she’d made him mad. Maybe she should curb her comments. She didn’t want to end up dead on a slab in the morgue.

For heavens’ sake, she didn’t even have a will. Not that she had anything to pass on. But she needed to include directions for her hair and make-up at her funeral. She refused to be caught looking a fright with her roots showing and her eyebrows unwaxed when her friends came to say their final good-byes.

Probably a lame thing to be thinking right now, but she had to distract herself from the fact that this might be the end for her.

That she might never see her sister again.