The Stolen Bride

Chapter Three

Erin stared in dismay at the man standing in the doorway. In his tuxedo, Chet loomed larger than life, his chiseled face set in an unaccustomed scowl.

He was a big man, several inches taller than Joseph although less tightly knit, with anchorman-perfect dark blond hair and an air of authority that swept people before him. Until now, Erin hadn’t dreamed of standing up to him—at least, not lately.

Since she’d awakened in the hospital, Chet had taken command of her life the way her father used to do. Bruised and aching, uncertain about what had happened, she’d been grateful for his strength.

She wasn’t ready for this confrontation. She hadn’t weighed her plans or gathered her courage. On the other hand, that might take days, and she needed to stop this wedding in its tracks.

Behind Chet in the hallway, Tina hovered uncertainly. Whatever she’d told the groom, the news had annoyed him. His guilty conscience had to be pricking, Erin thought with a trace of her old resilience.

“What’s going on?” he demanded. “I do not want my bride harassed.”

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Joseph thrust out his hand. “I’m Detective Lowery.”

Chet ignored his hand. “I know who you are.” It was unusually churlish of him, Erin thought.

“Everyone knows who you are.” This last came from Tina’s brother, Gene. Thin-faced and sharp-featured, he, too, wore a tuxedo, since he was Chet’s best man as well as his campaign manager. He and Joseph had disliked each other in high school, she recalled.

Joseph’s eyes flicked over Gene with the barest of recognition and returned to Chet. His air of quiet watchfulness impressed Erin. “Miss Marshall is assisting with an investigation.”

“Well, Detective, your time is up,” Chet said. “We’re having a wedding here and I don’t recall your being invited.”

“If you’re looking for trouble, take it elsewhere,” Gene added.

Tina’s cheeks reddened. “He just wanted to ask a few questions.”

“He’s exceeding his authority,” returned her brother. “And he knows it.”

Erin felt the tension in Joseph’s body. It was obvious that Chief Norris would hear about his intrusion, given his son’s attitude.

If she planned to retake charge of her life, Erin decided, she had better start now. “Joseph was just leaving, Chet, and so am I. I’m sorry but I can’t marry you. In fact, under the circumstances, you’re the one who should be saying you’re sorry.”

The groom’s reaction was subtle but unmistakable: a tightening around the eyes, a flare of the nostrils. Erin’s chest squeezed. Something about him frightened her.

Tina gasped. “Five minutes ago, you were fine. What on earth is going on?”

“Five minutes ago, I was deluded,” she said. “Tina, I was going to turn Chet down the day of the accident. He lied to me.”

“Tell me what kind of nonsense this man’s been spouting.” Chet reached for her shoulders, a gesture he frequently used, she realized, when he wanted to assert control.

She stepped away. “He didn’t have to tell me anything. I called my boss in Tustin. According to her, I was planning to turn you down before I got hit. I never promised to marry you. You lied to me.”

At some level, Chet must have been prepared for her accusation, because he immediately changed tactics. “You’ve been promising to marry me for the past six weeks. If anyone lied, it was you.”

Erin could hardly believe his nerve. “I was flat on my back in the hospital with a head injury! You convinced me we were engaged.”

“The hospital released you a month ago. You could have called off the ceremony at any time. No one forced you to do anything, Erin.” He spread his hands placatingly. “Look, this is an obvious case of prewedding jitters. We’ve got a whole ballroom full of guests waiting for us to walk down the aisle. Do you want to humiliate your mother in front of her friends?”

This last statement stopped her. By refusing to move home again after her father’s death, she’d already let her mother down once and left her vulnerable to an opportunist like Lance. The last-minute cancellation of her daughter’s wedding would embarrass Alice in front of Sundown Valley society. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way.

That wasn’t a good enough reason for Erin to marry the wrong man, however. And if she hadn’t already been convinced there was something amiss, Chet’s behavior these past few minutes had made it crystal clear. Instead of showing concern for her happiness, he’d done nothing but try to finesse her.

“When I told you I didn’t want to rush things, you described how eagerly I accepted your proposal and how I insisted we get married right away,” she said. “You stage-managed the whole thing.”

“This is a misunderstanding. This policeman’s been playing on your vulnerability. I don’t know why he’s done it but I’ll find out.” Despite Chet’s conciliatory tone, his pale blue eyes had turned to ice. “What I don’t understand is how you think you’re going to get away with this.”

She couldn’t seem to drag her eyes from Chet’s. It was like staring at a cobra. “Joseph?”

“I’m here.” His evenness broke the spell.

“You can’t stop me.”

“The problem is, you’re not stable,” Chet said in that same persuasive tone. “We’ve all tried to smooth things over, but your behavior this past month hasn’t always been rational. You need someone trustworthy watching over you.”

“I’m an adult,” she told him. “I can watch over myself.”

“Unfortunately, there’s a lot more at stake here than a young woman’s whims,” he said. “You’re half owner of a major company. If you go off half-cocked, you could not only endanger your inheritance but threaten the stability of a large chunk of this town’s economy. Maybe it’s time someone asked a judge to appoint a trustee until you regain your mental health.”

To have a judge declare her incompetent—what would that mean? She couldn’t be forced into a marriage, but could they lock her in a psychiatric facility? The prospect terrified Erin.

She moved closer to Joseph. He was a police officer and her friend. She just hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about helping her.

His next words were reassuring. “Miss Marshall is under my protection. If she wishes to leave the premises, that’s her right. You want to talk to a judge? Fine. My mother works for a lawyer. We’ll make sure Erin’s properly represented.”

“You used to be her boyfriend,” Gene put in. “For all we know, you’re playing on her weakness for your own advantage.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Tina blurted. “She’s not crazy and Joseph isn’t here to trick her.”

“Stay out of this,” her brother warned.

“Why? What’s it to you?”

“Let’s save the family quarrel for later, okay?” Chet was too intent on his goal to let the conversation get off course. “We’ve been going together for a long time, Erin. I could tell when I proposed that you intended to accept. I just simplified matters at the hospital because you needed someone to take care of you. What’s wrong with that?”

Thank goodness he’d backed away from making threats. At the same time, she marveled at how skillfully he twisted the facts. “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” Erin said. “But it’s useless to argue.”

“You’re going to run off and leave your mother to handle the fallout?” Chet pressed. “Do you have any idea how upset she’s going to be?”

His renewed attempt to corner her annoyed Erin. “I think I know my mother better than you do.”

“Is that why you’ve been asking me to run interference with her this past six months?” It wasn’t a question but a challenge. “You don’t have the first notion what Alice is going through.”

Angered flipped a switch. Andrew Marshall would never have allowed an employee, even a CEO, to address him in this condescending manner. “I’ve been dealing with my mother since long before you came to work for us.” Erin heard her father’s commanding inflection in her voice. “I can handle her without your help, thank you.”

Chet flinched. It was all the encouragement she needed. “Let’s go,” she said, and caught Joseph’s arm.

She did indeed owe Alice an apology. If that meant she had to endure a tongue-lashing, it couldn’t be any worse than facing up to Chet had been.

Adrenaline carried her along the carpeted hallway and outside into the October afternoon and down a walkway toward the guest wing, where her mother had taken a suite for the day. The hacienda-style country club, built sixteen years ago by the Marshall Company, opened onto a landscaped courtyard.

Ordinarily, Erin relished its lush vegetation. Today, she was in no mood to admire the flowers.

Joseph slanted her an admiring grin. “I love the way you pulled rank on him.”

“Is that what I did?” She would have found the notion amusing, except that Chet’s warning still rang in her ears. What I don’t understand is how you think you’re going to get away with this. What exactly had he meant?

“He jumped as if someone yanked the carpet out from under him,” Joseph said. “I think you missed your true vocation. You should have been a drill sergeant.”

The darkness inside Erin dissipated. “He scared me. I couldn’t have done it without you standing there.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” The autumn breeze ruffled his light brown hair, which always seems to stick up no matter how short he trimmed it.

“Do you think he was right?” she asked.

“About what?”

“I have been out of the hospital for a month,” she said. “No one forced me to do anything. I could have called it off. I don’t honestly know why I didn’t.”

“The Tustin report mentioned amnesia and post-traumatic stress disorder,” Joseph said.

“That’s what my doctor said,” Erin agreed.

“Mind telling me your symptoms?”

“I’ve had nightmares, and I haven’t been able to think straight. Sometimes the people around me seemed like strangers, even my mother. When it came to Chet, I drew a blank, but I figured that was temporary. Why didn’t I recognize that I don’t love him? It seems so obvious now.”

“Trauma victims often feel detached from their emotions,” Joseph told her. “Does that fit what you’re talking about?”

She nodded. “I didn’t really come alive until today. But I’m not sure that’s an excuse.”

“You’ve always doubted yourself,” Joseph said. “In high school, even when you knew your parents were trying to micromanage your life, you needed reassurance before you would trust your instincts. Between the trauma and your lack of confidence, Chet played you like a violin.”

“You think he did it on purpose?” He’d made a convincing case about believing he was following her wishes.

“He’s as ruthless as they come,” Joseph said. “If you want my opinion, the man’s capable of anything. Of course, I’m not the world’s biggest fan of politicians.”

“He seemed convinced I mistreated him.”

“He may really believe it. In his view, anyone who doesn’t give him his way is mistreating him.”

“That’s true!” She’d forgotten what a great sounding board Joseph made. “You have a gift for putting things in perspective.”

“And you have a gift for being so sweet-natured, you give the world your heart on a platter,” Joseph said. “The problem is, the world’s a tough place, Erin.”

“I don’t want to be tough,” she said.

“And I don’t want you to be.” His voice grew gentle. “But you may have to, for your own protection.”

Stumbling on the rough walkway in her satin slippers, she brushed against him. The contact sent sparkles shimmering through across her skin and Erin registered that she’d been right about one thing. She did remember how he smelled: like a woodland in a spring rain.

He righted her, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. There were none of the casual caresses that had come so naturally when they were younger.

She knew better than to expect a return to their old closeness. Joseph had done more than enough for her already.

When they reached her mother’s suite, Erin saw that the curtains were drawn against the afternoon brightness. Alice had to be feeling ill again, she thought worriedly.

This news was going to be hard to break. Her mom had always been a formidable figure, able to intimidate Erin with a mere lift of the eyebrow. Only since her father’s death had it become apparent that beneath the resolute exterior hid an uncertain sense of self.

Even so, Erin figured she was in for a rough time.

At her knock, the door cracked open and Brandy Schorr, her mother’s housekeeper, peered out. Despite her smooth bun and trim blouse and skirt, the pouches beneath Brandy’s eyes gave her a dissipated air. “Is the ceremony starting, Miss? I’ll send her right out.”

“No, thank you. I need to talk to my mother,” Erin said.

Brandy spotted Joseph. She didn’t even try to disguise her antipathy. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m assisting Miss Marshall,” he said. “At her request.”

The housekeeper chewed her lip before responding. “Mr. Bolding told me your investigation was finished. He said he doesn’t want you near Mrs. Bolding.”

“He isn’t here about her accident. He’s with me.” Erin pushed the door wider, ignoring Brandy’s half-hearted protest. Although she’d found the housekeeper pleasant during the past month, she had no particular ties to the woman, who’d only worked for the Boldings for a few months. Apparently, Lance had driven away the previous one.

“I can’t let you…” Brandy let the sentence trail off as Erin quelled her with a glare worthy of Andrew Marshall.

“Mom?” she called into the interior. Despite the brightness of the day, the front room lay in darkness save for one small lamp beside the couch. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” The familiar rasp of her mother’s voice rang out as Alice materialized from the shadows. “Is something wrong?”

For weeks, Erin had feared her mother was letting herself go. Today, her upswept strawberry-blond locks emphasized both her patrician features and the sharp protrusion of cheekbones. Her peach-colored dress with its pearl-seeded jacket clung to a figure that was much too thin.

“Mom, I’ve called off the wedding,” Erin blurted.

“What?” Alice, who’d been eyeing Joseph dubiously, turned her full attention on her daughter.

“I can’t marry Chet. I don’t love him.” The words poured out of her. “I never accepted his proposal. He lied to me about that. I trusted him because I couldn’t trust myself, if that makes any sense. It’s lucky I found out the truth in time.”

She braced herself for a needle-sharp rebuke. She knew full well that the cream of Sundown Valley society was gathering and that countless hours of hard work had gone into whipping up the wedding.

“Have you told Chet?” Alice asked.

Erin nodded. “Of course.”

“Well.” Her attention returned to Joseph. “What is this detective doing here?”

“I had a few questions for your daughter,” he said.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” Erin rushed on. “I don’t think I can face all those people. Is there any way…could someone else…”

Alice sighed. “Lance will tell them. You come home with us, sweetheart, and we’ll take care of you.”

Erin threw her arms around her mother and started to cry. “Thank you.” She should have known her mother would come through when her daughter needed her most.

“We’ll work this out.” Despite her casual tone, her mother’s tight smile seemed pained.

Fearing she might be hurting her, Erin let go. She hadn’t realized until she felt the delicate bones how frail Alice had become. Although she was only forty-nine, the events of the last few months had taken their toll.

Lance had done this to her. Erin couldn’t let Alice stay there alone with him.

“I’m not going home,” she said. “Neither are you.”

“Of course I am.”

“It isn’t safe,” she said. “Think about what’s happened to both of us. The accidents.”

“We’ve had a run of bad luck but it’s over.” Alice retreated into haughtiness. “You know your father never approved of running away from problems. What do you think he’d say about all this?”

A noise inside the suite made Erin’s heart leap into her throat. Her stepfather thrust his way out of the bedroom, tugging irritably at the bow tie of his tuxedo.

Although for the past few weeks he’d behaved courteously, today his fleshy face wore a peeved expression. “I heard voices. What the hell are you up to now?” he demanded. Erin had never heard anyone speak to her mother that way.

Alice took a shaky breath. “Erin’s called off the wedding. She’s got that policeman with her.”

Lance thrust forward with such fury that Erin retreated onto the doorstep. “I told you to get lost!” he roared at the detective. “You’ve got no business showing up on my stepdaughter’s wedding day.”

“It’s not my wedding day anymore,” she said.

The corner of Joseph’s mouth quirked as he joined her on the step. “She requested my assistance with the bridegroom.”

“Erin, get in here. If there’s a problem with Chet, we’ll deal with it,” Lance snapped.

“I’ve already dealt with it,” she said. “Mom, come with us.”

Her mother uttered a short, mirthless laugh. “I’m fine, believe me.”

“Mrs. Bolding, if you need assistance…” Joseph began.

Lance blocked their view of his wife. Arms folded, he glowered. “She doesn’t need help from either of you. Erin, you may not like it but I’m Alice’s husband now and I’m tired of your attitude. In the future, if you want to talk to her, you can go through the board secretary at the Marshall Company.” He slammed the door.

Erin stood there, too shocked to stir. Her stepfather had just banned her from talking to her mother, and Alice hadn’t said a word.

Desperately, she turned to Joseph. “She’s obviously terrified. Can’t you do anything?”

He made a frustrated noise. “Not unless I can demonstrate abuse.”

“He almost drowned her!”

“I can’t prove that, and believe me, I tried.” Joseph steered her away from the building. “Unless he does something overt or she asks for help, our options are limited.”

Erin could hardly bear to walk away, knowing that once again she was failing her mother. “She was always so strong until Dad died. I don’t know what’s happened to her.”

“You can’t predict how people will react to losing a spouse.” They kept to the edges of the country club as they circled toward the parking lot, avoiding the golf center where people might gawk at her bridal gown. “I thought my mother would fall apart when Dad died in prison. Instead, she went back to work as a legal secretary and made a new life for herself.”

Suzanne Lowery had been a full-time mom, devoted to her family and always kind to Erin. She’d suffered when her husband’s alcoholism ended his police career. She’d supported him through rehab and encouraged him to apply for a job at the Marshall Company, where he’d risen to chief of security.

Then, during Joseph’s senior year in high school, his father had been accused—falsely, Erin believed—of robbery and murder. She’d tried to stand by the Lowerys but Joseph had pushed her away. She wished now that she hadn’t let him.

“I’m glad she’s okay,” Erin said. “For my mom, Dad’s death was like the bottom dropped out of everything. I guess I should have let her lean on me, but I was selfish. I took a month’s leave and went back to work.”

“It isn’t selfish to grow up,” Joseph said. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

Erin wanted to accept his absolution, but she retained a brutish image of Lance storming at her mother. What good was being rich if she couldn’t protect the person she loved most?

Joseph had left his aging sedan in a side lot. “I figured my dent magnet would stand out like a sore thumb next to all the Lexuses and Cadillacs in front,” he said, unlocking it.

“Is this an undercover car?” Erin moved aside a couple of files and a fast-food bag before shifting into the seat. At least there was plenty of legroom for her full skirt.

“Nope, it’s mine. Not much to look at, but it’s paid for.” After tucking her inside, he closed the door.

In Tustin, Erin had driven a low-priced model bought with her own earnings, but she knew it wasn’t the same thing. In the hospital, realizing how much trouble it would be to deal with the car while recuperating, she’d donated it to charity. Once she got permission from the doctor to drive again, she could always buy a new model. Joseph didn’t have that option.

Money only made a difference if you let it, she thought. In essential ways, the two of them were equals.

When he settled behind the wheel and stretched his shoulder muscles, the vibrations traveled along the bench-style seat. Erin relaxed. She used to love riding beside him.

“Let’s stop by your parents’ house,” he said. “While they’re out, it’s a good time for you to pick up a few clothes. Then tell me where to take you.”

“I have no idea,” she said.

“No hurry. Give it some thought.”

She fell silent as they headed between the emerald slopes of the club’s golf course. Beyond it, atop a steep rise, stood the grand house where she’d grown up. Her father had built it to command a spectacular view.

She missed it, although she was glad Lance Bolding didn’t get to preen himself in the mansion Andrew Marshall had cherished. The house now belonged to Dr. Ray Van Fleet and his socialite wife, Jean, old friends of her parents. They were probably sitting in the ballroom right now, waiting for the wedding to begin.

The wedding. Already, it seemed unreal. Erin had virtually sleepwalked through the past weeks, as if the preparations and the wedding belonged to someone else.

Now she tried to think of a place to go. Although the Marshall Company owned a number of apartments, she didn’t like the notion that Chet could get a key to any of them. A hotel room? Employees could be bribed, she thought.

Joseph had asked who might want to kill her. If that was really a possibility, she needed to be careful. Very careful.

She started to tremble. Everyone in Sundown Valley seemed to pose a threat. Except for Joseph, of course.

As for Tustin, she didn’t want to be fifty miles away if her mother needed her. Besides, she’d been attacked there.

She tightened her grip on her purse. She wasn’t going to get hysterical in front of Joseph. She’d think of somewhere to go.

His next words drove that concern out of her head—and replaced it with a more immediate one.

“Don’t get excited,” Joseph said, “but I think someone’s following us.”

Chapter Four

“What?” When Erin twisted in her seat, her face betrayed her alarm. Joseph disliked upsetting her. The words had slipped out before he’d had time to think.

He’d noticed the luxury sedan in his rearview mirror on the way around the lake. It had shot off Golf Club Lane some distance behind them, speeding away from the country club until it caught up and then slowing to trail a dozen car lengths behind.