Cody preferred her without the make-up, but he wanted her to wear that dress for him, not for the Reverend.
He had to force his attention away from the beautiful woman so that he could watch the President. He studied each aide and guard, wondering which one or ones would betray their leader and their country. Could it be the too tall, too slim fiftyish man, with sparse hair and elephant ears? Could it be the All-American college boy with blonde hair and bluer than blue eyes that looked as if he’d played college ball? Could it be the boy next door with dark red hair and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks? Or could it be the one that looked like the hard-bitten cop, who was paunchy and balding and didn’t wear his suit very well?
Cody knew looks could be deceiving. It could be any or all of them. Money and power talked and many could be bought. The idea nauseated him, but he was realistic enough to live in the real world. Or maybe they’d not been lured by money or power at all, but sucked in by Alexander’s charismatic religion. How many people would kill the President if they thought God had told them to do it? A far sight more than would for money or power. So the real question was, how many people thought Alexander worked for God? That he was a spokesperson? A prophet?
Cody had nothing against God or real prophets. He had been known to attend church on Sundays and get down on his knees to pray and to pay an honest tithe. He’d done a whole lot of repenting for his transgression of turning a blind eye to the mayor’s illegal activities. But he didn’t believe that Senator Nathan Alexander or any of his brethren were true disciples, or that they followed God’s word and precepts. They were monsters in religious robes, spewing false doctrine, hypnotizing the unsuspecting with visions and promises of glory and exultation, when what they really delivered was eternal damnation. Just breathing the same air they breathed sickened him to his core.
Nathan strutted up to them, resplendent in a tailor-made tux. His black hair was slicked back into a ducktail and he’d put on a spot of make-up so that his complexion looked pasty. Attaching a diamond cufflink to his wrist, he looked like a gangster. A gangster would probably be less deadly than the religious fanatic he was.
Or maybe there was no difference in how far they’d go to achieve their goals or how much regret they’d feel over their actions.
Cody followed his gaze and realized the grounds were full and that nearly everyone had taken seats in front of the gazebo. There must be a thousand people, a good two hundred of them press, no doubt from society and political papers nationwide. Cameras flashed about every two seconds.
“It’s time.” Nathan adjusted his bow tie, his Adam’s apple throbbing. His pulse jerked in his neck, but other than those indicators, he was calm and collected, as far as the world could see. He darted a piercing gaze at Cody. “No funny stuff at the altar. One word out of you and the girl and the President get shot. A lot of innocent bystanders may get hurt, too. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?”
“You got a lot of nerve calling yourself a man of God and a man of the people.” Cody faced off against the bridegroom, wanting to rip him apart with his bare hands. They were roughly the same height and even roughly the same build, but Cody was a lot more solid and well honed than the other man. He’d win a fair fight with little effort.
“Tell me something, Alexander. You got it all. You’re a senator. You hobnob with the President. You’ve got movie stars here.” Cody’s glance slid to Leo DiCaprio and Liz Taylor strolling arm in arm, their heads bent close together. Earlier he thought he saw Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. “You’ve got it all. Why give it up for this sorry bunch of losers?”
Brother Larry bristled behind him but the huge man’s voice was remarkably controlled. “You’re talking about worldly concerns, and sins of the flesh. Fame is only important to help us gain our ends....”
Cody intercepted a narrowed warning glance from Nathan to his apostle.
“Why do you want to marry a woman who so obviously hates your guts? Are you that hard up?” He lowered his voice. “Or do you honestly believe she’s your sacred priestess just because she has red hair and green eyes?”
Nuclear explosions flared in Nathan’s irises when his gaze pinpointed Brother Larry.
The man cringed, stepping behind Cody.
What was he now? A human shield?
Cody pushed. “What will you do with your priestess once you have her? Sacrifice her to your gods in some bizarre ritual?”
“Shut up, Richards,” Shadows fell across Chet’s face as they fell into line beside Nathan at the altar. His lips and teeth barely moved so that he reminded Cody of a ventriloquist. He kept his voice low, too, so that the preacher couldn’t hear him and Cody had to strain to catch his words.
“Why? You can’t afford to let me live anyway.”
The preacher frowned and said, “Shush.” The man folded his hands before him, which all but disappeared in the folds of his long white robes. A gold and purple sash draped around his neck, falling to his wrists. Thick wiry eyebrows drew together in a single line. His nose had a large bump on the bridge and flattened on one side as if he’d been in a fight or an accident.
Chet tossed him an evil half smile. “Be warned that if you try anything, the girl will be shot.”
“Your boss won’t like that.” Cody was confident that his ex-friend lied. The Reverend was obsessed with Melissa. He hadn’t searched two years for the missing heiress to shoot her, had he?
Chet’s features turned to granite when he whispered in Cody’s ear, “Then they’ll be together in the Celestial Kingdom.”
Cody’s blood chilled in his veins. Was he to presume Chet was a loose cannon? It sure sounded that way. He must have delusions of power, too. Why hadn’t he picked up on that till now?
The organ belted out the first strains of the wedding march and Nathan loosened his tie, dragging air into his lungs. He looked even pastier than before and his pupils dilated.
All eyes turned on Melissa, exquisite in her wedding gown; they probably missed the groom and even if they noticed his pallor they would probably put it down to normal wedding jitters.
Cody had never seen a lovelier vision. She was an angel fallen to earth and he couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t breathe.
* * * *
Melissa felt as if she marched to her doom, not to anyone’s idea of a happily-ever-after. This wasn’t her wedding. It was her funeral procession. Life with Nathan would be worse than death. Pure torture, agony, and most of all hell.
The Reverend’s handsome face masked a soul of pure evil. His smile was that of a crocodile, ready to snare the unwary. His mind operated on a different wavelength from that of normal men and his heart was constructed of pure steel.
Her feet couldn’t be more leaden and they didn’t want to cooperate. They didn’t want to take her to her doom.
The sea of faces swirled before her. None of her real friends were in attendance … if anyone from her past life could be deemed a real friend. They were all Nathan’s friends, or rather, his cultivated elite. People who could propel his career: movie stars, millionaires, and politicians. Several state senators, the mayor, even the President of the United States. An impressive group and yet, no one who really mattered to her except her father, her sister, and Cody. She could care less about prestige and fortune. The beautiful people had lost their charm. They lacked substance. Yet she wondered how even they could be so blind to Nathan’s evil? How they could be taken in by his charisma? She wondered how many followed his teachings? How many believed he was a prophet? Surely not the President?
Her gaze was drawn to the man she’d dreamed would be her bridegroom--Cody. His intense gaze bore into her, inflaming her.
Staring at Cody, not watching where she was going, she stumbled over her long, full skirts.
A murmur went up in the crowd as flashbulbs blinded her. Polka dots danced before her eyes, making her blink rapidly to regain clear vision. She forced a strained smile to her lips, cursing Nathan ye
t again.
The cogs spun in her mind. What would happen if she denounced Nathan and his group of evildoers right now, right here in front of everyone? Would he really shoot Cody and Christina in front of all these witnesses? In front of the press and the President?
She gnawed her lower lip till she tasted blood. Did she dare chance it? She was sick to her stomach. This couldn’t be her life. She’d been born to privilege and glamour and she was supposed to have a fairy princess life. At least that’s the fairy tale she’d been fed morning, noon, and night throughout her privileged childhood, how her father and society had brainwashed her.
Now that she was an adult, she no longer lusted after money, fame, or glory, but she’d dreamed of being happy. Of marrying the man she loved and raising their babies together. She could be blissful in a shack on the poor side of town, but not caged in Nathan’s gilded mansion, taken out in public only to decorate his arm, wearing his name so she couldn’t incriminate him in murder or any of one of the other million vile crimes he’d committed, while in private she would be maltreated and unloved.
Please help me, God. Jesse, watch over us. She’d not spoken to God in a very long time other than to blame him for Jesse’s death, but she lifted a fervent, silent prayer now. She wasn’t sure God would listen after her long absence but it was worth a try. Don’t let Nathan get away with his evil plans. Don’t let him hurt anybody else. Dreamy eyes devoured her, but it was Cody’s gaze, mixed with passion and pain that tore her apart. He should be her groom. He was her match.
She divorced herself from her body. It was the only way she could get through this ordeal without breaking down and screaming. Detached, she seemed to watch her father kiss her cheek and say goodbye to her. Fascinated horror replaced acute sadness when Nathan took her hand in his and her father stepped back from the altar to take his seat of honor in the front pew.
The music faded out, leaving an expectant silence. Only the birds and ocean waves dared interrupt. Melissa was only vaguely aware of the preacher clearing his throat and loosening his collar with pudgy fingers. A slight breeze ruffled the parchment page in his Bible, whipping it over and lifting the golden ribbon that held his place.
Bells rang in her ears so that she missed every other word the preacher said, and the words she caught were blurry. The wind ruffled loose wisps of hair into her eyes and mouth but she didn’t try to brush them away. It’d be futile anyway. The wind was being mischievous today, taunting her, but also cooling off her heated flesh.
The preacher’s lips moved as the muscles in his jaws flexed. Each word he uttered wrapped a little tighter around her as if he bound her in unbreakable chains. Well, wasn’t he doing exactly that?
“Do you, Nathan Adam Alexander, take this woman to be your wedded wife? For better, for worse, in sickness, in health, from this day forward, till death do you part?” The clergyman’s voice buzzed in her ear, an annoying sound that should’ve been the most beautiful words on earth.
“I do.” Nathan smiled at her, baring his teeth, his lips stretched wide. He still reminded her of a crocodile, deadly and vile. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her knuckles, grating on her nerves.
The preacher smiled up at her, the sun reflecting off his wire rimmed glasses. “Do you, Melissa Victoria Vanderbilt-Smythe, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? For better, for worse, in sickness, in health, from this day forward, till death do you part?”
Cody bristled beside Nathan while Christina sobbed quietly at her side. Melissa paused, her gaze dueling with Cody’s unfathomable one, darker than she’d ever seen it. The words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t utter them, not even to save her life.
Nathan scowled. “Answer him!”
When Melissa remained silent, Nathan growled, snarling, his lips barely moving. “Say I do or your sister, lover boy, and your father get shot. What do you choose?”
“Pardon me? Please repeat yourself louder. I didn’t hear what you just said. I’m hard of hearing.” The preacher lifted his brows and widened his eyes. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Never mind what I said. Please continue with the nuptials.”
Brother Chet patted his chest and then opened his jacket fractionally. Afternoon sun glinted off his pistol barrel.
Trapped, she sighed, squeezing back stinging tears. To Cody she mouthed, “I love you forever.”
Cody mouthed back, “I love you.”
Hanging her head, she whispered in a hoarse voice, “I do.” A hot tear plopped on the back of her hand and rolled off into the grass at her feet.
The preacher expelled a huge sigh of relief and his face relaxed into a smile. Turning to Nathan, he said joyfully, “If there are no objections,” he paused, looking at the guests, his gaze lingering on Cody who fumed silently, and then continued when no one spoke up. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Nathan’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her against his chest. His breath rasped sickly sweet on her arched neck as he bent her backwards over his arm. Light bulbs flashed in her eyes as reporters and photographers knelt on the ground in front of them, their cameras poised.
Bile rose in her throat, threatening to bubble over. When she struggled against him, splaying her hands over his chest to push him away, he hissed, “The President’s watching and the press are taking pictures. Kiss me.”
Melissa hawked up the phlegm in her throat, considering spewing it at him. But she caught the glint of sunlight on Brother Chet’s revolver pointed at her father and thought better of that action. Swallowing her spit, she almost choked. “I may be married to you, but I’ll always love him.”
Nathan ground his lips against hers while his tongue sought admission to the cavern of her mouth, but she kept her lips firmly shut, refusing to allow him access. He thrust her from him in disgust, his lips twisted grotesquely. He chuckled maniacally.
She stumbled and would’ve fallen if not for her sister catching her. Clenching her fists so hard that her nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms, and squaring her shoulders, Melissa glared at her new husband. “I hate you. I’ll always hate you.”
“I’m not the only one you should hate, Miss High and Mighty.” Nathan glanced over his shoulder at Cody, venom coating his eyes. “Try turning that hate on the man who tracked you down and brought you to me--for cold hard cash.”
She froze, her blood congealing in her veins. She couldn’t breathe. Confusion and pain twisted her thoughts.
“Cody?”
That one word held a lifetime of hurt and disbelief.
“None other.” Glee swam in Nathan’s words as harsh afternoon sunlight hit him full in the face. “Richards is my hired man. I paid him very well to find you and deliver you to me.”
“This can’t be,” she mumbled under her breath, going over every word to make sure she didn’t misunderstand or hear incorrectly. Her heart imploded as the sincerity of the words penetrated her brain. “My first instincts were right. I shouldn’t have trusted you.” Lifting her eyes, her gaze clashed with Cody’s. Raising her voice, she directed her words to him. “I should’ve let you rot from that snake bite.” Marching to him, she slapped him hard. “I never want to see you as long as I live. Don’t ever come near me again!” Hitching up her long satin skirts, she pivoted on her heel in preparation to run down the aisle. Nathan’s ring shackled her finger so that she could hardly breathe. Bits of her heart scattered on the ground around her, blending in with the cloying rose petals.
How could she have been so stupid? How blind? He’d had cop written all over him. If she never saw him again, it’d be too soon.
* * * *
Vertigo assailing him, Cody closed his eyes. He should’ve known Alexander would tell her. If only he’d kept his professional distance. If only he’d checked out the Senator better. If only he’d been upfront and told Melissa that he’d been working for her fiancé and explained that he was trying to save her, trying to reunite her with a loving, caring family,
as soon as he’d realized he had fallen irrevocably in love with her, professional code or no professional code. There were so many ‘what ifs’ they threatened to choke him.
“Move away from Mrs. Alexander.” Chet brandished his pistol at Cody, his lips curled back in a snarl. Cocking the pistol’s hammer, he thrust it in Cody’s face.
“What’s going on here?” the President’s voice boomed above the sea of excited chatter behind them.
“Mr. President, we have to evacuate you now.” The Secret Service men rose, encircling their chief, reaching for their own firearms.
Chaos broke out. Wedding guests rushed to escape, some trampling others, some screaming. Folding chairs collapsed when brushed against. People stumbled, falling to their knees, ruining expensive gowns.
Cody seized the opportunity and thrust Melissa at her groom, and then kicked his leg in a high arc, knocking the weapon from Chet’s hand.
A bullet exploded in a flash of light as the weapon hurled to the ground, end over end. Cody ducked and rolled, grabbing for the shiny black instrument where it landed in the grass.
Chet dove for the gun, too, landing on Cody, knocking the breath from him. Fighting his way up, Cody’s left hook caught his ex-friend in the jaw. Bone crunched as Chet’s eyes rolled back in his head.
But the man recovered quickly and put his hands around Cody’s throat, squeezing.
Strangling, Cody tried to pry the deadly fingers from his throat. He couldn’t speak, only grunt. He tried to jab his knee into his adversary’s groin but was pinned down. Thwarted, he shoved the heel of his hand as hard as he could against the underside of Chet’s nose. The other man howled his rage as he grabbed his face.
Deadly Love Page 14