Hook, Line and Shotgun Bride

by Cassie Miles

  Physically, she felt better than she had in weeks. Maybe months. Her body had recovered from whatever was in those nasty blue pills Neil prescribed. Whenever she thought of what a chump she’d been, her anger exploded like a pressure cooker.

  Neil had been clever. She had to give him points for sneakiness. She hadn’t suspected his treachery until Shane opened her eyes. Now, her vision was 20/20, and she had to say that her future without Neil looked pretty good.

  As soon as this was over, she’d go back to her regular life, taking care of Benjy and running Waffles. One of her regular patrons at the restaurant had been encouraging her to put together a book of her breakfast recipes. Maybe she’d take on that challenge.

  And Shane would be living in Denver, working at PRESS. She hoped he’d stay at her house while he got settled. Having him around was no bother. The opposite, in fact. She’d enjoy making him dinner every night, going for walks in the evening, taking Benjy to the zoo on weekends. Maybe he’d stay with them for a long time.

  She started jogging again.

  In just a few hours, she was scheduled to meet with Prentice at a roadside café outside Silver Plume. Shane had laid out the strategy for this meeting with the foresight of a general.

  The first thing to do was to drop off Benjy so he’d be safe. While she was meeting with Prentice, her son would be staying at a local horse ranch. The owner was a friend of Shane’s family, and there would be other kids for Benjy to play with.

  When they got to the café, Shane wouldn’t accompany her inside. He had already arranged with the café owner to have her seated at a booth next to the front window where he could watch from the parking lot and be ready to intervene if Prentice tried anything.

  As she jogged the last few yards to the cabin, her legs felt springy and strong. With any luck, she could get the answers she wanted from Prentice and negotiate an end to her unfortunate association with Neil Revere.

  WHEN ANGELA DROVE Shane’s Land Rover into the parking lot outside the Grizzly Bear Café, she understood why Shane had chosen this meeting place. The café sat at the far end of a wide clearing beside the road with nothing else around; it would be nearly impossible to stage an ambush here. Cars and trucks parked across the front and on either side of the large asphalt lot.

  The restaurant was a dark wood structure about the length of two trailers laid end to end. Above the entrance that bisected the front of the building was a faded picture of a grizzly, showing his claws. Windows stretched across either side. Though she knew Shane was already here, she didn’t spot him in the parking lot.

  Anticipation raised her pulse rate. She was excited to face Prentice and learn what was behind Neil’s scheme.

  When she entered and introduced herself to the man behind the cash register, he gave her a wink and escorted her to the window booth. After a quick glance at the menu, she ordered an orange soda and a buffalo burger. Not that she was hungry. But as a restaurant owner, she felt obliged to place an order if she was taking up space in a booth.

  Before her food arrived, Dr. Prentice marched through the entrance as though he owned the place. Though his clinic was in the mountains, the exclusive Aspen lifestyle was a long way from Grizzly Bear Café. His jeans were tailored, and his fawn-colored leather vest had never been dirtied by an honest day’s work.

  He sat across from her with his shoulders straight and his chin tilted back. Adjusting his thick glasses, he looked down his long nose with an attitude of disdain. She remembered what Eve had said: this man liked to play God.

  “Good afternoon, Angela.”

  His voice grated on her nerves. “Good afternoon.”

  “I must say, you surprised all of us when you called off the wedding. Many of the guests had already arrived, and there was no time to contact the others. We had to tell them all that you had a change of heart.” A cruel smile touched his lips. “Some of them thought you were having a nervous breakdown.”

  Which was exactly what Neil wanted them to think. Had she unwittingly played into his hands? “I don’t care what they thought.”

  “All those gifts will have to be returned.”

  “Neil should have considered the inconvenience before he drugged me.”

  “He was only trying to help you get over your insomnia. Is it possible that you overreacted?”

  “Hardly.” Though he ticked her off, she held her anger in check. “An overreaction would have been if I’d gone after Neil with a cleaver.”

  He signaled to the waitress. “I’d like a bottled water.”

  “I’ve spoken to Eve,” she said.

  His thick gray eyebrows rose above the rim of his glasses. “I thought she and her husband were out of the country.”

  “We talked via computer. She told me about the Prentice-

  Jantzen study. We’re half sisters. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Do I have any other genetic siblings?”

  “I can’t say. My part in the study didn’t involve checking the DNA profiles for other matches. All I did was create twenty-four embryos from superior subjects. Many—like Eve—have established successful careers in complex, professional fields.”

  In spite of herself, she was curious. “And the others?”

  “Those like yourself,” he said. “You mustn’t feel that your accomplishments are lesser than those of scientists or doctors, Angela. You’re a creative person.”

  The way he said creative made it sound like something disgusting. “Are there other chefs?”

  “There are musicians and an artist. All are high achievers, despite the fact that they were raised by average individuals. That was my thesis. Genetics trumps environment.”

  Though she could have argued the point, she hadn’t arranged this meeting to discuss his crackpot theories. “When, exactly, did you know that I was one of your subjects?”

  “As I told you, when you and your husband came to me.”

  That coincidence was just too handy to be believed. The odds against having her—out of all the people in the world—come to him must be astronomical. Eve, the mathematician, could probably give her a number.

  Angela took a poke at his arrogance. “You must have felt like a complete fool when I showed up. There were only twenty-four subjects in the study. How could you lose track of me?”

  He shrugged. “After your father died, your mother was in Europe. She didn’t respond to any of our queries. After she remarried, she changed both of your names.”

  “All a matter of public record,” Angela said. “We weren’t in the witness protection program or anything. The Army was always able to keep track of her.”

  “For the purposes of our study, we needed consistent annual updates, which ceased when your father passed away. You were dropped from the list when you failed to comply.”

  “I was four years old.”

  “The failure,” he said, “was your mother’s.”

  Under the table, her hands drew into fists. Her mom wasn’t the best parent in the world, but she didn’t deserve to be called a failure. Angela swallowed the aggressive response that rose to her lips.

  Talking to Prentice wasn’t about getting even. She needed information. “Nevertheless,” she said, “if you had wanted to find me, you could have done so.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Even after you supposedly figured out who I was, you avoided telling me the truth.”

  “It wasn’t relevant.”

  The waitress arrived with his bottled water and her buffalo burger with golden, crispy fries. Her gut clenched so tightly that she doubted she could stuff food down her throat.

  But she lifted the burger and took a bite as if to prove that she wasn’t rattled. She picked up a French fry and studied it with the kind of attention reserved for rare white truffles. She pointed the fry toward him. “Want a taste?”

  Disregarding her offer, he sipped his water. “We need to talk about Neil. And I want to make this perfectly clear.”<
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  “Oh, please do,” she said. “And speak in words of one syllable so I can understand.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm.”

  “Blame it on my creative side.”

  “Neil knew nothing about the stalking. It was all Carlson’s idea. When Neil asked him to keep an eye on you, he got carried away.”

  She didn’t buy one word of this explanation. “I wouldn’t have thought Carlson was so clever.”

  “He has an unfortunate immaturity, but he’s actually very bright. I referred him to Neil.”

  She filed that bit of information away for future reference. “Is Carlson from Aspen?”

  “I met him there. At the time, he was a ski bum who dropped out of med school. You must believe me when I say that Carlson is terribly sorry for upsetting you.”

  Yeah, sure. “He sounded real apologetic when he was yelling at me in a parking lot outside the PRESS office.”

  “And, of course, Neil is devastated.”

  A twinge of guilt went through her, but she quickly banished any thought of sympathy. “He’ll get over it.”

  “You and Neil are very well suited for each other. A good genetic match. You’d have remarkable offspring.”

  “Like Benjy?”

  At the mention of her son’s name, his cold attitude thawed, and his smile turned sincere. Prentice morphed into the kindly grandfather she’d seen when they met at Neil’s house. “Benjy is an exceptional child. So many people claim their children are gifted. So few truly are.”

  She hesitated before asking the question she desperately wanted answered: Is Benjy mine? No way would he give her an honest reply. He’d been content to deceive the twenty-four childless couples in the Prentice-Jantzen study.

  Instead, she came at the issue from a different angle. “I’m having Benjy tested. I should have his DNA profile in just a few days.”

  The mask of kindness fell from his face. “Before you do anything rash, I want you to meet with Neil.”

  “I have nothing to say to him. I won’t change my mind.”

  “It would be so simple. I have a cabin not far from here. I could take you there now.”

  She was immediately suspicious. “Is Neil at your cabin? Is he nearby?”

  “Come with me,” Prentice urged. “Just for an hour. Neil deserves that much. You humiliated him by calling off the wedding.”

  “I’m not the villain. Neil was trying to drive me insane. Did he tell you about slashing my wedding gown to shreds? Did he mention the hidden microphones designed to wake me each night at the moment when Tom died?”

  “As I explained, Carlson was responsible for—”

  “Carlson had nothing to do with that vile pre-nup,” she said. “Carlson wasn’t responsible for the carefully worded section in that document that gave Neil custody of my son. Why is he trying to take Benjy away from me?”

  As soon as she blurted out those words, she knew she’d made a mistake. Her goal had been to cleverly trick Prentice into revealing some deeper truth, but she’d thrown her cards on the table and shown her hand. She’d let him see her greatest fear.

  “You’re being absurd,” Prentice said.

  “Am I? Isn’t it true that Neil was only marrying me to get to my son?”

  “My dear, I never realized you were so high-strung. You remind me of Neil’s mother. Even at her best, she was a very high-maintenance woman.”

  She refused to let him sidestep the custody issue by changing the subject. “Answer my question, Doctor. Was Neil marrying me to gain access to Benjy?”

  “I’m simply trying to help you understand—to gain a full picture. You can keep an open mind, can’t you?”

  “Not when it comes to my son.”

  “Such determination might be admirable if it weren’t so misplaced. You need to know about Neil’s mother.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not a psychologist, but my dear friend Ray Jantzen would say that men often choose wives who remind them of their mothers.” He shrugged. “In this instance, the comparison could be significant. You see, Neil’s mother has been hospitalized for years. She’s a delusional schizophrenic. Tragic, really.”

  Was he accusing her of being psychotic? She sputtered, unable to find the words to respond to such an over-the-top allegation.

  “Think about it,” he said. “Neil’s concern about your mental health—as evidenced in the pre-nup—could possibly derive from memories of his mother and what he went through with her.”

  She grabbed her shoulder bag and fished out her wallet to pay for the uneaten buffalo burger. “This conversation is over.”

  “Angela, Angela.” He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why won’t you listen to reason?”

  She took out a twenty—which provided a more than ample tip—and placed it on the table as she scooted out of the booth. “Don’t contact me again. I’m done with Neil and with you.”

  Before she could run out the door, he grabbed her wrist. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Anger surged through her veins. She glared into his face. Then, she gasped.

  His eyes! Without his glasses, she could clearly see his eyes. They were the same unusual blue-gray as Benjy’s.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Technically, Shane was on duty today. He’d given his two weeks’ notice but was still a Park County deputy sheriff. In spite of his navy-blue uniform shirt and his badge, his heart wasn’t in his work. He’d ignored two calls from the dispatcher regarding a speeder in nearby Georgetown. It went against his grain to do a half-assed job, but today the other deputies would have to pick up the slack. His only focus was on keeping Angela safe.

  In the parking lot outside the Grizzly Bear Café, he’d changed positions several times, making certain that no one—neither Carlson nor Neil—was lurking in the nearby trees. He leaned against the side of the patrol vehicle where he had an unobstructed view through the front window of the restaurant. Even from a distance, he could tell that Angela was plenty angry.

  On his walkie-talkie, he communicated with the other deputy he’d posted at the rear of the restaurant. “You see anything?”

  “All clear. How much longer do we have to stay?”

  Through the window, he saw Angela stand up. “Only a couple of minutes. It looks like she’s leaving.”

  He kept his eye on Prentice as Angela headed toward the exit. The old man was using his cell phone, probably reporting back to Neil. Shane glanced toward the far edge of the lot where Prentice had parked his vehicle—a Cadillac Escalade SUV that he’d angled across two spaces to keep anyone from bumping the chrome.

  When Angela emerged from the restaurant, Shane got into the patrol vehicle. Their plan was for her to drive a safe distance away from the café before they met up. Her high ponytail bounced as she stormed toward his Land Rover with car keys in hand. Her shoulders were tense. She looked as mad as the grizzly on the sign over the café entrance.

  He spoke into the walkie-talkie. “We’re done here. Come around front, and I’ll buy you lunch.”

  “You owe me more than that, buddy. I want a full breakfast cooked by Angela with crepes and that egg thing she does.”

  “Frittata,” he said with a grin. “You got it.”

  Two years ago, Angela and baby Benjy had visited him for a week. Though she was supposed to be relaxing, she’d put together a breakfast for everybody at the courthouse. Some of the deputies were still talking about the frittatas, and at least four of them had asked her to marry them after tasting her cooking. He leaned forward to slip his key into the ignition.

  He heard the squeal of tires, looked up and saw a black sedan swerve into the parking lot. The driver’s-side door flew open. Neil jumped out.

  “Son of a bitch,” Shane muttered. He exited his vehicle and crossed the parking lot at a run. The adrenaline was already coursing through his veins. His hand was already on the gun at his hip.

  Standing only a few feet away from Ne
il, Angela held up her hand. “Shane, stop. It’s okay.”

  Not in his opinion. He didn’t want Neil anywhere near her. She might think of this guy as a respected doctor, but Shane saw a dangerous man who was accustomed to getting everything he wanted. “Show me your hands, Neil.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “That’s an order,” Shane barked.

  Neil looked him up and down, taking in the obvious fact that Shane was an armed lawman. He raised both hands and turned in a circle. “Satisfied?”

  “Not really.” He’d like to arrest Neil for reckless driving, causing a public nuisance and being a general pain in the butt.

  “Really,” Angela said. “I can handle this.”

  “You’ve got five minutes.”

  “Would you mind stepping back?” Neil asked. “We’d like some privacy.”

  “Matter of fact,” Shane drawled, “I do mind.”

  He stayed exactly where he was—about four feet away from them. His weight balanced on the balls of his feet, and his arms hung loose at his sides. At the slightest provocation, he would react with a vengeance.

  Neil turned toward Angela. “I had hoped that you’d listen to reason and come along with Dr. Prentice.”

  “I’m actually glad you showed up,” she said. “I gave Prentice a very clear message, but it’s good to tell you in person so you can see my face and know that I’m serious.”

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  “Stay away from my son.”

  “That’s not fair. I’d be a good father to Benjy. You know that. You know that I can give him everything he needs to develop into an extraordinary individual. He’d have the best tutors. He’d attend schools for gifted children.”