“I get dizzy.” She took a couple of deep breaths. In the formfitting gown, the movement made him uncomfortably aware of her bosom, and as soon as she looked steadier, he let go. “What do you mean by unexplained issues?”
Joseph referred to his notebook. “For one thing, the van had been stolen. It was recovered, stripped, twenty-five miles away in Los Angeles.”
“If it was a stolen van, that could explain why the driver didn’t stop to help me,” Erin replied. “What else?”
“Here’s the puzzler,” Joseph said. “You were carrying two thousand three hundred and forty-seven dollars in a cash box, which you left on the pavement about a hundred feet from where you got hit.”
“I did? Why?”
“You got me,” he said. “It was sitting there neatly with no sign of damage. It doesn’t look as if you dropped it. Why did you set it down?”
“I don’t know.” Erin’s blank expression confirmed that, as she’d told the Tustin detective, she didn’t recall the circumstances surrounding the hit-and-run. Crime and accident victims often blacked out the event, even if they didn’t suffer from head injuries. Sometimes the memories returned, sometimes not.
“Tustin PD finds that odd and so do I,” he said. “It’s possible you believed someone was trying to rob you and left it there so he’d leave you alone. But no one took the money. That might indicate some other motive.”
“Nobody told me that before.”
He had to ask a hard question, even if it upset her further. “Can you think of anyone who might want to kill you?”
Her horrified look went straight through him. “Of course not!”
She was being naïve, of course. The Marshall Company, of which Erin was half owner, wielded tremendous power in this town. It had developed major parcels of property and owned the mall, the hospital and several office complexes. There had to be people with grudges, from competitors to former leaseholders to outright kooks.
Apparently, she’d been sheltered from threats and lawsuits. Although technically Erin held the title of vice-chairman of the board, her position appeared to be largely ceremonial.
As CEO, Dever ran the Marshall Company in conjunction with Alice Marshall Bolding. Erin’s mother, who’d become chairman of the board since her husband’s death two years earlier, maintained an office at Marshall headquarters and apparently also conducted business from home.
“That brings us to your mother,” he said. “I’ve never been comfortable with the idea that she simply went boating by herself at twilight and fell out.”
He knew his report hadn’t made a strong enough case to convince his superiors that there’d been a crime. After Erin was nearly killed, however, his concerns had doubled. Although the Tustin police were doing their best to find the driver, he wondered if Erin herself held the key.
“Your mother decided to take out Lance’s motorboat even though it was nearly dark and there was no one around,” he continued. “Does that sound like something she would do?”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine my mother sailing in anything less than a yacht.”
“She said she’d had a couple of drinks and lost her balance,” he went on. “What do you think of that?”
“Even if my mother did get drunk, she’d never admit it.” Erin plucked at her lace skirt. “She’s always insisted on keeping up appearances.”
Although he felt uncomfortable talking with his high school sweetheart as if they were strangers, at least she was willing to hear him out, Joseph mused. Alice Bolding had become annoyed at his implications and her husband had gone ballistic.
His goal was to resolve his case, and perhaps Tustin’s case as well. That was it. Then Erin could marry any darn fellow she pleased.
“Your stepfather claims he went shopping that evening, but he didn’t buy anything so there are no receipts,” he said. “I haven’t found any salesclerks who remember seeing him.”
“I’ve never trusted Lance,” she said. “So I can’t be objective. But if he tried to kill my Mom, why wouldn’t she say so? You must have asked her.”
“She denied it,” he admitted. “But her body language was extremely tense.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Erin said. “I’m sure she didn’t like talking to the police.”
Alice had always been a proud woman. Joseph hadn’t liked her much when he’d dated her daughter, because she’d had a way of making him feel about six inches tall. Even so, he’d been surprised by how coldly she’d behaved when he arrived at the lake, as if she resented his attempt to set the record straight.
Of course, she might have been in shock. Or could she fear that someone would retaliate if she spoke freely? Police dealt with abusive situations all the time, and they weren’t necessarily confined to poor homes.
“Did you ask her what happened?” he probed.
“I tried,” Erin said. “I phoned her as soon as I heard. I wanted to come up and find out what was really going on, but when I asked whether Lance had anything to do with it, she ordered me to stay away. For months, she would hardly speak to me, and she refused point-blank to let me visit. We didn’t reconcile until after I got hurt.”
“You’ve been staying with her. How has she seemed?” He watched her reaction closely.
“Moody,” Erin said. “Sometimes she’s giddy, then she gets kind of mad at the world.”
“Was she always like that?”
“She could be touchy, but I don’t think she feels well. The water must have affected her lungs.” Concern thickened her voice. “She says she’s been fighting off bronchitis, so she rarely goes out and she never invites anyone over except on company business.”
Abusive spouses often isolated their victims. “Did you talk to her about this?” Joseph asked. “It sounds like she needs help.”
Erin’s lost expression tugged at his sympathies. “I didn’t dare say anything. My perceptions have been so screwed up, I thought I was getting paranoid. I…” She hesitated.
“What?” he pressed.
“It’s silly.”
“The things people believe are silly often turn out to be important.” Joseph could feel her wondering whether to trust him. He waited, willing her to cooperate. Whatever was going on here, he might never find it out without her help.
“I thought people were whispering behind my back,” Erin confessed. “Does that sound crazy?”
“Not at all,” Joseph said. “Has your stepfather threatened you in any way?”
She swallowed. “No, actually, he’s been rather mellow. That doesn’t mean I like him.” She twisted her gloved hands together. “After my father died, my mother asked me to move back here, but I refused to leave my job. If I’d been around, maybe she wouldn’t have turned to Lance.”
“This isn’t your fault. Your mother’s always had a mind of her own.”
“She’s changed,” Erin said. “I don’t think she’s in control anymore. Can’t you help her?”
Joseph wished he could. He’d become a police officer to help people, and there was nothing more frustrating than when a woman insisted on protecting a man who was abusing her. But there were limits to what the police could do.
“The chief ordered me to close the case,” he said. “He puts a lot of stock in making nice with the town’s ruling class, and I suspect Mr. Bolding told him to back off.”
“You’re not supposed to be here today?” Erin said.
“That’s right.”
“You are trying to help.” The quaver in her voice hit him in the gut. “You could get into trouble because of me.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Their gazes met and held, and then she smiled. Just like that, he knew he wasn’t over her. He had never been over her. She was the reason every woman he’d dated since high school seemed to lack something vital, only he hadn’t understood that until now.
“Why the hell are you marrying Chet Dever?” Joseph braced himself for her to say, “Because I love him.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Relief mingled with pain as raw as it had been more than ten years ago. “How can you marry a guy if you don’t love him?”
“I must love him. I said yes, didn’t I?”
“Why are you asking me?”
Erin scrunched her nose the way she used to do when an idea hit her. Like defying her parents and going to play Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus at a Christmas party for poor children rather than attending their school’s winter formal. Joseph treasured the photo he’d kept from that escapade.
“I don’t remember saying yes,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“That whole morning is a big blank,” she explained. “He’d proposed the previous weekend. The morning of the accident, I phoned and said I couldn’t wait another day to tell him I wanted to be his wife. That’s what he told me.”
Joseph hadn’t expected anything like this when he decided to inject himself into Erin’s wedding day. “Whoa. Is it just me or does something smell rotten around here?”
“Smell,” she said.
“What?”
“I just remembered. Something smelled sweet. Flowers.” She blinked. “I’m sorry. I must be thinking of the hospital.”
She was so confused she could hardly follow her own train of thought. “You’re in no shape to marry anybody.”
Erin gestured at her wedding dress. “I made a commitment, and I always keep my promises.” Her voice wavered slightly as she added, “Besides, I’m sure it’s what I want.”
“You don’t sound sure to me.”
She hesitated. “I guess I’m wondering why I didn’t accept his proposal right away, why I waited. If I could just put my finger on what happened that morning, I’d feel better.”
In a little over half an hour, this woman was going to walk down the aisle with a man who, in Joseph’s estimation, was both cunning and amoral, and who would dearly love to come into possession of Erin’s millions. She had only his word that she’d agreed to marry him.
He gripped his notepad. Erin wasn’t his problem. As far as this town was concerned, he had no business getting anywhere near her.
Not only weren’t the Lowerys in the same league as the Marshalls, they’d been virtual outcasts since his father, a former policeman, was arrested and convicted of murder eleven years ago. The fallout had destroyed his relationship with Erin. It had destroyed his father, too.
Although Joseph and his mother had stood by him, very few people shared their belief that Lewis Lowery had been framed. After he died in prison and the years ticked by without new evidence emerging, the chances of clearing his father’s name had become negligible.
Erin was another matter. If she’d just become engaged, surely she had confided the happy news to someone. There was no reason to rely on Chet’s testimony.
“Is there a friend you might have talked to that day?” he asked.
“My boss, Bea,” Erin said. “We were working together at the carnival.”
“Do you know her phone number?”
“It’s in my organizer.”
He retrieved her purse from a chair. “May I?” It might take her a while to get those gloves off.
“Go ahead. It’s in the side pocket.”
He found the number and dialed her cell phone. While it was ringing, Joseph handed it to Erin.
After a moment, she exchanged pleasantries with her boss. He heard her ask if, before the accident, she’d mentioned her engagement.
“I don’t understand,” Erin said. “What do you mean you didn’t know I was engaged?… Well, to Chet, of course. You received the invitation, didn’t you?… What?”
He’d thought she was pale before, but some previously unsuspected color drained from her cheeks. “Oh, my gosh,” she said. “Oh, Bea. You won’t believe—well, I don’t have time to explain. Thank you. Yes. This helps a lot. I’ll be in touch.” She clicked off.
“Well?” Joseph said.
She swallowed hard. “I didn’t promise to marry Chet. I told Bea I was going to turn him down.”
Much as he welcomed the news, Joseph had to make sure it was valid. “Could there be a misunderstanding?”
“She talked to me that afternoon, right before I got hit.” Erin spoke in a dull, shocked tone. “I said the whole thing with Chet was a mistake. I planned to give him the bad news in person the next day.”
Joseph couldn’t believe Dever had lied so baldly. “Maybe you accepted him and then had a change of heart.”
“I don’t see how that could have happened,” Erin said. “Chet described how overjoyed I was when I called. He said I could hardly wait to walk down the aisle. I’m not the kind of person who would say that and then change my mind a few hours later.”
“When he told you, didn’t you wonder why you’d agreed? I mean, you ought to know whether you love him or not.” He knew he was being rough on her, but it was nothing compared to the storm that would sweep over Sundown Valley if Erin Marshall left Chet Dever at the altar.
“I believed everything I was told. I couldn’t rely on my memory or my feelings.” She sounded dazed. “I didn’t trust my perceptions.”
What a violation! What Dever had done might not be a crime, but it ought to be. “You can’t marry him.”
Erin dropped her cell phone into her purse. “What a mess! Everyone’s going to be so upset. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with them.”
“The only person you have to deal with is your fake fiancé,” he said.
“No.” Tears welled in her eyes. “There’s my mom. And all those people out there.” She started to shake. “I’m sorry. I know I ought to be able to take care of myself, but I can’t think straight.”
Joseph couldn’t help it. He knew he was compromising his investigation, but he wrapped his arms around Erin and pulled her against him.
She needed him. He’d never believed such a thing could happen, in view of their past and their relative situations in this community. Regardless of whether he crushed his career along with her wedding dress, he refused to let her down.
“Come with me,” he said. “I’ll help you sort it out.”
“You don’t have to.” She rested her cheek on his chest. “This isn’t your problem.”
“Tell me how many people you trust right now, besides me.”
“My mom,” she said.
“Even if she’s under Lance’s influence?”
“No.”
“So there’s just me,” Joseph pointed out. “That makes it my problem.”
Soon enough, she’d have all the support she needed—from lawyers, security guards, accountants, whatever. But for this small, precious space of time, she needed a friend and she’d turned to him. “Let’s get the heck out of here.”
“Thank you.” Erin’s eyes looked huge as she peered up at him. “I can’t tell you how much this means.”
“Cops are the modern equivalent of knights in shining armor, aren’t we?” he teased, and reached for the door.
Eerily, the knob turned just before he touched it, and someone in the hall pulled it open.
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 hov
ered 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.
The Stolen Bride Page 3