And The Bride Vanishes

by Jacqueline Diamond

Now she could wear them no longer. She would have not even that symbol of his love.

  He wondered if she would ever believe that he acted, for once in his life, from unselfish motives. He hoped that time would show her the truth.

  Leaning over, Wick brushed a kiss across Linda’s cheek. Then he went to get dressed.

  IN HER DREAM, Linda walked down the aisle of a church she had never seen before. The ceiling was so high that doves nested in the dome, and before her the aisle stretched away to the horizon.

  She couldn’t see or hear anyone else, although she sensed that the sanctuary was full of people. They were whispering about her, but she couldn’t make out the words. It was all in code.

  Someone kissed her on the cheek. Turning, she reached to touch him, but he wasn’t there.

  Wick. He had disappeared again.

  She came awake in darkness. In the room, someone was moving quietly.

  Near the bureau, she made out Wick’s shape. Holding a drawer open, he removed the contents and stuffed them into a bag.

  “What are you doing?” she asked hoarsely.

  He flinched. Until that moment, his intentions hadn’t occurred to her, but now they became obvious. “You were leaving.”

  The bed creaked beneath his weight. Sitting on the edge, Wick surveyed her sadly. “I want you to go back. It isn’t just the police who know I’m alive now, Linda. If it’s been on the news, they’ve alerted the killer. He’ll be coming after me.”

  “Don’t I get any choice in the matter?”

  “I didn’t want to put you in that position,” he said.

  “Position?” He had a strange notion of how the human heart worked, if he thought it would be cruel to let her choose to be with her husband. “Wick, how can I ever trust you? Any time my back is turned, I have to worry that you’re going to sneak off. If you don’t want to be with me, just say so.”

  She could have sworn she saw torment in his eyes, but it might have been a glint of moonlight through the window. “I want to be with you, more than anything, Linda. But—”

  Something scraped on the side of the house. Someone had brushed the loose drainpipe.

  “Get down!” Wick pulled her from the bed onto the floor.

  “Call the police. Say you’re a neighbor.”

  “They can see the phone number and address when you dial 911,” he reminded her.

  “Better than getting killed.”

  “You’re right” He was reaching for the extension next to the bed, when someone tapped on a window downstairs.

  Wick froze. He must be feeling the same sense of confusion that she was, Linda thought. “Could it be Mina?” she whispered.

  Another tap followed, and then a man’s voice called, “Wick?”

  “It’s Avery,” he said.

  WICK INSISTED that Linda remain hidden while he called instructions out the window, then went to the door. He thought they could trust his old friend—indeed, they had little choice—but he was taking no chances.

  He let Avery inside and they stood facing each other, neither sure how to begin. In the pale glow of the lamp, Avery’s face looked drawn with worry.

  He must have suffered a great deal since Linda was abducted. Wick could only imagine how he himself would feel under the circumstances.

  “Does anyone know you came here?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “You didn’t tell your father?”

  Avery shook his head. “It was the only place I could think of that you might have gone. In fact, I came by the other day on the off chance Linda might be here, but I didn’t see anyone. Wick, where is she?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Where is she?” he repeated more forcefully, and tensed as if expecting a blow. He was shorter and slimmer than Wick, and wouldn’t stand much chance in a fight, but evidently he only cared about making sure Linda was safe.

  “She’s here,” Wick said. “Linda?”

  A moment later, she came down the stairs, belting her pink quilted robe as she walked. She had brushed her hair, and removed the odd earring, he noticed.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Relief flashed across Avery’s face. He started to step toward her, then checked himself. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her,” Wick said. “And I didn’t kill Sarah Walters.”

  Avery took a deep breath. “Who did?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Linda gestured them into the living room. “Avery, I’m sorry about leaving you at the altar, so to speak.”

  “That wasn’t her fault.” It was a relief to face Avery at last, Wick found. “I forced her.”

  “Mostly, I’m glad you’re all right. Both of you.” The blond man sat on the edge of a chair. “Captain Merkel told us they found your fingerprints at Sarah’s apartment, Wick.”

  “We know,” Linda said. “We were at the party.”

  “Tonight?”

  “In costume, of course.” She explained about opening the safe, but didn’t mention Mina. Smiling ruefully, Linda concluded, “I was hiding behind the couch in the library.”

  Avery stared in disbelief mingled with admiration. “You heard the whole conversation? But what did you hope to find in Dad’s safe?”

  “Someone ran my car off the bridge. That wasn’t an accident.” Wick explained about Sarah’s pretense of being a reporter and about the night he’d taken the files to her. “Whoever tried to kill me is probably the same person who killed her. We think your father might have something to do with it.”

  Avery chewed his lips. It was a relapse into a nervous habit he’d almost overcome since college. “I wish I could say he’s completely innocent, but he’s not. I don’t believe he’s the one who tried to kill you, though.”

  “Tell us what you know,” Linda said. “Please, Avery. Until we can figure out who’s behind this, neither Wick nor I can come home.”

  “Until tonight,” Avery said, “I would have sworn my father wasn’t guilty of anything except being a good businessman. But after what Harvey said about Yuri Capek and his paranoia, I began to wonder about the people we were bringing over, and why so many of them had, well, troubled backgrounds. After the guests left, I insisted that Dad level with me.”

  Avery had known for years, he said, that some of the Lyme Company’s clients had departed their countries in a hurry, but he’d never considered that this was more than a coincidence. He had dismissed his father’s preoccupation with security as simply normal caution, but in recent months one event had followed another until even he couldn’t ignore the pattern.

  Seven months ago, he had asked why his father didn’t report the break-in attempt at the office to the police. Granville’s explanation was that he had promised his clients confidentiality, and he didn’t want any questions raised. The answer had never satisfied Avery, but until he heard Harvey’s words, he had refused to examine his own suspicions.

  “Tonight, Dad admitted that it went beyond just protecting his clients’ privacy,” Avery said. “He’s been helping people come into the country illegally. Most of them later applied for, and received, refugee status.

  “But basically, Dad was smuggling aliens—only the rich ones, of course. That was the Lyme Company’s edge. That’s why we got the million-dollar real-estate deals. Some of the money might be stolen, and some of the clients could be hiding criminal backgrounds. Dad could go to prison over it, not to mention losing his broker’s license.”

  Linda explained about the coded paper they’d found in the safe. “What do you suppose it is?”

  “You’re probably right to guess names and addresses,” Avery said. “They could be potential clients, or referral sources.”

  “But why put them in code?” Wick asked. “Even in his own safe?”

  “He’s gotten scared since the break-in and then your…death. After Linda disappeared, he could hardly sleep,” Avery said.

  “We’ve been going on the assumption that the killer wanted to g
et those files back, and to eliminate anyone who might have seen them,” Wick pressed. “Which of the clients would you suspect?”

  “I don’t know,” Avery said. “I’m not even sure which files you took.”

  Together, they went through the names. Avery agreed with their theory that Reina Marinovskya was probably in the clear. As for the Wangs, they’d sold their interest in the Hong Kong clothing factory, so if there were any trademark infringements going on, they were no longer involved.

  “Yuri Capek is kind of an odd duck,” he said. “For a former customs official, he sure has a lot of money. And he seems to think there are people with grudges against him.”

  “Janet said he’d been making investments for years,” Linda told them. “Sneaking his money out of Litvonia and putting it into foreign stocks. I suppose you could get rich that way.”

  “Why would anyone hold a grudge against him, anyway?” Wick asked. “Maybe some smuggler he caught in customs?”

  “Or some smuggler he blackmailed,” Avery suggested. “Although, as far as I know, there’s been no actual attack or even a threat, so he could be imagining the whole thing.”

  “It might just be a touch of senility, although Janet’s so loyal, she’d never admit it.” Beside him, Linda shifted on the couch, and Wick caught a whiff of her scented shampoo. He had an almost overwhelming urge to slip his arm around her, but decided it would be rude to act affectionate in front of Avery.

  “What about the D’Amboises?” As he turned to his friend, Wick kept his tone neutral, but it was a test of sorts. The man didn’t know that he’d been observed playing golf with Pierre. Was he going to deny knowing anything?

  Avery stretched sleepily. “He and Lynette illegally removed some artifacts from their country. There’s no extradition treaty, but they’ve been threatened with a lawsuit, and immediate arrest if they ever go back.”

  Pierre had asked Granville to act as intermediary to work out a compromise, Avery said.

  “He and Lynette want to keep the artifacts from being sold underground. They’re willing to go back and sponsor a museum to house their collection, but they’re afraid they’ll be thrown in jail.”

  “So that’s what he was talking to your father about on the golf course?” Wick murmured.

  His friend regarded him in astonishment. “You really do get around.”

  “It’s amazing what you can find out if you have to,” Linda said.

  It was time, Wick thought, to get to the bottom line. “Well, unless someone in the files is behind the attacks, that brings us back to your father.”

  “I told you, he leveled with me tonight.”

  “Are you sure?” Linda probed. “I think Wick and I have both learned that there can be layers of truth.”

  From the way Avery stiffened, Wick could see that he was ready to defend his father. But they couldn’t back off or Avery would be no further help to them.

  “Where was Granville the night Sarah got killed?” Wick asked.

  His friend shrugged. “At home. I think. I went to a party and came home late. Okay, I don’t know where he was, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

  Wick had to keep going until he planted at least a seed of doubt. “We think the killer might have been watching Linda,” he said. “Maybe he suspected I was alive, since my body had never turned up. After I snatched her, I swung by Sarah’s apartment and tried to call her. I was confused and a little scared by what I’d done, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He explained how her window had been cut later that afternoon.

  “If it had been my father, which I don’t think it was, he would have stuck with you and Linda, not stopped to harass this detective,” Avery said.

  “He could have gone back.” Wick sighed. “But you may be right. Anyway, once he saw where the trailer was, I should think he would have notified the police.”

  “Was your father waiting with you at the church?” Linda asked. “If he was, he couldn’t have followed us.”

  The blond man swallowed hard. “Actually, he was late. Some kind of emergency business.”

  “How late was he?” Wick asked.

  “Half an hour. Of course, he still would have been in time for the actual wedding, but we’d arranged to meet beforehand.”

  “There’s another possibility that occurs to me,” Linda said. “Maybe someone who knows about the illegal immigrants is blackmailing your father. Avery, there’s got to be more that he hasn’t told you. Maybe he thinks he’s protecting you.”

  Avery stared at his hands before replying. “All right. I’m willing to go back and talk to him.”

  “Thank you,” Linda murmured.

  “He should still be up,” Avery said. “The party got him wired, and besides, he likes to E-mail clients in other time zones at off-hours.”

  “It doesn’t have to be done tonight,” she said.

  Her onetime fiancé gave her a long, wistful look. “If my father has put you in danger, I want to resolve it. And if he hasn’t, maybe he’ll help us.”

  The possibility of informing Granville Lyme of their whereabouts alarmed Wick. “You don’t plan to tell him where we are?”

  “No,” Avery said. “I mean, not any details, just that I’d talked to you.” But he didn’t sound very confident.

  Wick couldn’t let Avery go by himself. The man had no guile. In five minutes, Granville would get him to spill everything he knew.

  On the other hand, Wick could hardly walk in beside Avery. Granville would call the police before he got two words out.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll drive over there with you and stay outside. If you find yourself about to tell your father too much, say you need to clear your head, then come out and talk to me. Please, Avery.”

  For a moment, he thought his friend would refuse. In a way, the offer was insulting. But they’d known each other too long and too well to keep up pretenses.

  “You’re right,” Avery said. “He always seems to get around me somehow. But if I know you’re there—okay. Thanks, Wick.”

  “I’m coming too,” Linda said.

  “No.” Both men spoke at once.

  “I won’t stay here alone,” she countered. “If you figured out where we are, Avery, someone else might have, too.”

  Reluctantly, they agreed to take her with them. For better or for worse, they were going to find out what Granville Lyme had to say.

  Chapter Ten

  Linda rode beside Wick, watching Avery’s taillights punctuate the darkness ahead of them. She had the stretched, grainy feeling that came from getting too little sleep.

  But she couldn’t doze off again, not after the last half hour’s conversation. It had set off questions and worries that buzzed through her mind.

  Mostly, right now, she was concerned about Avery. She knew how much he revered his father. It must have torn him apart when Granville had admitted to breaking the law.

  Avery hadn’t inherited the iron backbone that had enabled his father to amass such wealth. The son was a gentle spirit with little inner direction, but that hadn’t been a problem while he could rely on his father to steer the way.

  As long as she could remember, Avery had been the one who cheered up his classmates when they suffered disappointments. It was he who had given Wick a job when he needed it, and offered to marry Linda when she found herself alone and pregnant.

  From time to time, working in the office, she’d heard a note of contempt creep into Granville’s voice when he addressed his son. She knew he loved the young man, but doubted he respected him. But to Avery, his father had been the rock-solid foundation of his life.

  It must have been difficult to question his father earlier tonight. To confront him again and imply that Granville hadn’t told the whole truth took a lot of courage.

  Maybe, she thought, Avery was discovering his own inner strength. More likely, he was doing it from a sense of allegiance to her and Wick.

  They owed him a lot. She hoped they cou
ld find a way to pay him back.

  Avery’s route took them down Janet’s street. It lay peaceful at this early hour of the morning; even the street lamps’ glow appeared tired and thin. Janet’s house looked so normal and familiar that, after the strange happenings of the past few days, Linda felt as if she had returned from a voyage of many years.

  Farther down the street, through Mina’s front window, she noticed a faint glow from the interior. Either their friend was having trouble sleeping after her escapade of the previous evening, or she had left a light on for security.

  When they reached the Lyme estate, all signs of the festivities had vanished. The bright exterior lights had been turned off, the music was gone and a locked gate replaced the guard who had stood there earlier.

  Ahead of them, Avery punched a code into a security box and the gate slid open. Wick gunned the engine and followed him inside, tailgating in case the thing rolled shut, but it didn’t. Avery, thoughtful as ever, must have turned off the device to make sure they could escape if necessary.

  On either side of the driveway, stately trees loomed like sentinels. Linda kept expecting a guard to challenge them, but there was no one about. Besides, she reminded herself, Avery lived here, so why would anyone question them?

  They parked in a secluded section of the concrete, which looked bereft after the earlier jam. Avery left his car beside theirs, although normally he parked in one of the garages.

  “The keys are in the ignition.” He spoke through Wick’s partly opened window. “If you have to leave in a hurry and your car won’t start, take mine.”

  “I hope that won’t happen, but if it does, you can find it at the cabin,” Wick said.

  It occurred to Linda that, should someone pursue them, they might not be able to return to the cabin. “If we’re not there, we’ll meet you in the tunnel between the mall and the civic center,” she said. “I’ll call on your voice mail at work and tell you what time.”

  Avery smiled. “I never knew you had such a head for intrigue.”

  “Neither did I,” Linda admitted.

  She watched him cross the concrete, his footsteps crunching with abnormal loudness at this hour when the world huddled in silence. He straightened his shoulders as he went.