His Stolen Bride (Chicago Sons)

by Barbara Dunlop

  “She was frantic.” Mac’s tone was dry as he shut the door behind himself.

  “Did anybody see you two come in?” asked Jackson, wondering if Mac had lost his mind. “Gerhard is definitely going to recognize the maid of honor.”

  “I saw him down there,” said Mac. “And I saw his guys. They didn’t see us.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Jackson felt a bit better.

  “It’s been crazy,” said Crista, pulling Ellie toward the sofa. “Jackson hauled me away from the church. Then we were on a boat. I jumped off. When I finally got home, Vern was an absolute jerk about it.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Vern.”

  “I know. He’s acting weird. I’m so confused about this whole thing. But tell me what happened after I left.”

  As Ellie began to talk, Jackson returned his attention to Mac. “I thought you were giving her a burner phone.”

  “That was my plan.”

  “Didn’t work out for you?”

  Hearing Ellie’s earnest tone and the pace of her speech, Jackson thought he could understand why.

  “Not so much,” said Mac.

  “Talked you into the ground.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Drink?” asked Jackson.

  “A beer if you’ve got it.”

  The two men moved to the wet bar, and Mac perched himself on one of the stools.

  Jackson lowered his voice, glancing to the sofa where Crista and Ellie were engrossed in conversation. “I’m buying Trent’s story now. This isn’t just about a runaway bride.”

  Mac nodded. “Those guys in the lobby look way too serious for that.”

  Jackson twisted the tops off two bottles of beer. “We need to look into the diamond mine.”

  “Norway’s already on it.”

  Jackson was glad to hear that. “Anything jumping out at him?”

  “The Borezone Mine has been around forever. Trent Corday originally bought it twenty years ago at a bargain price. He nearly lost it for noncompliance with the claim. Then he did lose a huge chunk of it, apparently on a gambling debt.”

  “To who?”

  “That’s not exactly clear. Shell companies are hiding behind holding companies. But we’ve confirmed he put his remaining shares in his daughter’s name.”

  “A moment of mental clarity?” Jackson speculated, thinking it was possible Trent recognized his own incompetence with money.

  “Or a moment of making amends. It sounds like he was in and out of her life over the years, never provided much in the way of monetary or any other kind of support. He wasn’t exactly father of the year. On the other hand, the mine wasn’t worth much at the time.”

  “And now?”

  Trent had said there’d been a recent discovery, but that could mean a lot of things.

  “Depends on who you talk to,” said Mac. “A numbered Cayman Islands company currently owns the majority. We haven’t been able to trace the principals behind it, but they hired an exploration company that made the latest discovery. They’re hyping it as a hundred million resource, talking about going public with a share offering.”

  “Could all be a scam—pump the share price and dump the stock on unsuspecting investors.”

  “Most likely,” said Mac. “But we’ll keep looking.”

  Jackson tipped back his beer and took a drink. For Crista’s sake, he hoped it was a scam. The last thing she needed was a multimillion-dollar stake in a diamond mine and a group of shady characters out to exploit her.

  “Is that how Gerhard found out?” he asked. “Through the exploration company’s hype?”

  Mac frowned. “That’s the strange part. The timing doesn’t add up. The hype started six months ago. Gerhard’s been with Crista for a year.”

  “So he found out some other way.”

  “Or the wedding had nothing to do with the diamond mine.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” said Jackson. “Those guys in the lobby tell me there’s lots of money at stake.”

  Mac nodded. Jackson’s attention switched to Crista. Vern Gerhard had targeted her for the money. Jackson was certain of it. But nothing pointed to how Gerhard found out about the mine. Jackson was missing a piece, maybe more than one. There was definitely something he didn’t know, and it seemed likely it was something that could hurt Crista.

  “What’s next?” asked Mac.

  “Norway stays on the mine.” Jackson formulated an initial plan in his mind. “You take Gerhard—especially look for any link between his family and that Cayman Islands company. I’ll take another look at Trent. There might be more to this story than he’s let on.”

  “Can do,” said Mac. “One question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Has someone actually hired us for this job? I mean, besides the two convicts making eight dollars a day?”

  “I can’t do a favor for my father?” Jackson acknowledged that things had gone beyond the few hours of time he’d planned to spend looking into Gerhard.

  “You can, but you don’t.” Mac looked pointedly at Crista who was smiling at Ellie. “If she wasn’t a bona fide ten, would you be dedicating so many resources for free?”

  “We’ll never know,” said Jackson. “She’s not going to stop being a ten, and my curiosity’s going now.”

  “Lots of pretty women in the world.”

  Jackson saw Mac’s gaze shift from Crista to Ellie.

  “Not a lot of diamond mines.”

  Mac snorted a laugh. “You don’t care about a diamond mine.”

  “True.” But Jackson was finding that he did care about Crista.

  It didn’t make sense, but he did care. Sure, she was beautiful. And she was in some kind of trouble. And Gerhard didn’t deserve to be within a mile of her. But something else was drawing him in.

  The closest he could come was that her circumstances were similar to his. She’d lost her mother as a young adult, and her father was in prison. It might be as simple as that. They were kindred spirits. She wasn’t as tough as him. She wasn’t as capable of taking care of herself, and he was offended that the Gerhards had targeted her.

  Ellie suddenly twisted and spoke up. “Any danger in ordering room service?”

  Jackson was reminded that he and Crista were practically starving.

  “None at all,” he said, straightening away from the bar.

  “I was all set for pizza,” said Crista, seeming rather cheerful under the circumstances.

  “I’m in,” said Ellie.

  “And chocolate cake,” said Crista. “Do you think they’d have chocolate cake?”

  Jackson moved to the phone on a side table. “I’ll ask.”

  “It’s not like I have to fit into that dress anymore,” Crista said to Ellie.

  “You can always get something a size bigger,” Ellie returned on a laugh.

  “I’m not going to eat that much cake.”

  Jackson paused with the phone in his hand, not liking where she seemed to be going.

  “What do you mean?” he asked Crista.

  “I mean one piece will be enough.”

  “I’ll take one, too,” said Ellie.

  “Get a round,” said Mac.

  “You’re talking about getting another wedding dress,” Jackson said. “Why would you need another wedding dress?”

  Crista looked back at him. “The last one got ruined, remember?”

  Both Ellie and Mac disappeared from his vision as it tunneled to Crista. “But you’re not getting married anymore.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Maybe?”

  “I know he was a jerk back there. But it was a stres
sful situation. He had to cope with his parents and all those dignitaries. It had to be incredibly embarrassing.”

  Jackson took a step toward her, hardly able to believe her words. “You’re defending him?”

  “It wasn’t his finest moment, but—”

  “He’s messing around on you. He’s been messing around on you for months.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  Jackson jabbed his thumb in Mac’s direction. “Mac is completely trustworthy.”

  “I don’t know Mac. I never met Mac until today.”

  “I know Mac.”

  “Well, I don’t know you.”

  “You’d actually give that jerk a second chance?” Did Jackson need to rethink his involvement in all this?

  “We can validate the photos,” said Mac.

  “Why should we do that?” Jackson demanded, annoyance getting the better of him.

  “To give Crista peace of mind.”

  “She doesn’t want to believe us, that’s her problem. In fact, she can head down to the lobby right now if she thinks Gerhard is so trustworthy.”

  “Hang on.” Ellie came to her feet. “I’m not a Vern fan. But I’d be—”

  “What do you mean, you’re not a Vern fan?” Crista sat up straight, obviously shocked by the statement.

  Ellie seemed to realize what she’d said. Her expression turned guilty.

  “Explain,” said Crista. “You said you liked him.”

  “I do. Well, you know, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “There are things about him that I like.”

  Jackson eased back, waiting to see where the conversation would lead. He was relieved by Ellie’s support.

  “He’s always generous,” said Ellie. “And he’s always happy.”

  Jackson couldn’t help thinking she hadn’t seen his behavior this morning.

  “Maybe too happy,” she continued. “It’s a bit unnatural, don’t you think?”

  “You’re criticizing him for being happy?” Crista was clearly confused by Ellie’s attitude.

  “There’s something about him that’s too polished,” said Ellie. “My radar sometimes kicks in. Like, he’s saying and doing all the right things, but the sincerity’s not there in his eyes.”

  Jackson was beginning to like Ellie.

  Crista came to her feet. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”

  “You seemed so happy,” said Ellie in an apologetic tone. “I wanted it to all be true. But now…”

  “You’ve changed your mind because of some pictures? Pictures obtained by a stranger who is obviously willing to break the law, and who has something, some scheme, going on that we don’t understand.”

  “A scheme?” Now Jackson was offended.

  Mac stepped in. “I think I’ll go ahead and order. Pizza and chocolate cake?”

  “All I’m saying,” Ellie said, gesturing with both hands as if she was appealing for calm, “is why not verify the photos? What could it hurt?”

  Crista didn’t seem to have an answer for that.

  Quite frankly, neither did Jackson. He knew the photos were authentic. And once Crista knew it, too, she’d start to trust him. He realized he wanted that. He wanted it too much for comfort.

  That wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. His instincts with her could lead him into all sorts of trouble.

  * * *

  Crista savored a final bite of the moist chocolate cake decorated with decadent swirls of buttercream icing.

  “I bet this was better than the wedding cake,” said Ellie, licking her fork.

  The two women had moved outside onto the hotel suite balcony. Now that darkness had fallen, Jackson deemed it safe to sit there. He’d pointed out that someone with night-vision binoculars in a neighboring building might still be able to make them out. But he’d admitted the likelihood of that was low.

  “I wonder what they did with the wedding cake,” Crista mused.

  “Not to mention the crab puffs. And what about the ice sculpture?”

  “I suppose they could keep it in the freezer.”

  “For the next wedding with a precious gems theme?”

  “It was unique.” Crista thought back to the geometric base and the embedded colored stones.

  “I thought Mrs. Gerhard was going to have an aneurysm,” said Ellie. “She turned all kinds of mottled red. Manfred was bellowing orders. Security guards were rushing all over the building, out on the sidewalk. Man, I wish I’d had my cell phone to take some video.”

  “Have you checked social media?” Crista hated to think it, but it seemed likely somebody had taken pictures. Vern would be mortified at having the world believe he was left at the altar.

  “It’ll be all over town by now,” said Ellie. “The bachelorettes of Chicago will either be laughing at him or hauling out their push-up bras.”

  Having been with Vern for a year, Crista knew how many women out there were vying for his attention. He’d been devoted to Crista, but it was clear his ego appreciated the attention from others. He’d hate the thought of becoming a joke.

  A clanging sound suddenly blasted through the air.

  Both women jumped up, clasping their hands over their ears.

  “What on earth?” asked Ellie.

  Jackson immediately bolted through the balcony doorway. He grasped Crista and pulled her back into the suite. Mac was there, too, ushering Ellie inside.

  “It’s the fire alarm,” said Jackson.

  “Gerhard,” said Mac.

  “Trying to flush us out.”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” said Crista.

  Vern was restrained and circumspect, not to mention law-abiding. He’d never pull a false fire alarm.

  “He did do that,” Jackson said with conviction. “And we’re not going anywhere.”

  “You can’t know it was him,” she protested.

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  “There are at least six fire exits in the building,” said Mac.

  Jackson was glancing around. “He must have brought in more men to watch them all.”

  “This is ridiculous,” said Crista.

  Jackson and Mac exchanged some kind of a knowing look.

  “Uh, guys,” Ellie broke in as she gaped through the open balcony door. “I see smoke out there.”

  That got everybody’s attention. Crista wrinkled her nose, realizing she could smell it, too.

  Ellie pointed. “That’s definitely smoke.”

  Mac was outside like a shot.

  “Flames,” he called over his shoulder. “Fifth floor.” He came back inside. “And the third floor in the other wing.”

  “He set two fires?” Jackson asked, half to himself.

  “What now?” asked Mac.

  “We leave the building,” said Crista. Like there was any question about it.

  “You take Ellie,” said Jackson. “Leave through the back.”

  “Will do,” said Mac.

  “Crista and I will go through the lobby. It’ll be easier to hide in the crowd than anything else.”

  “Good luck,” said Mac. He looked to Ellie. “Let’s go.”

  She grabbed her purse from the coffee table and gave Crista a quick hug. “I’ll call you.”

  Crista felt like she’d been swept up in someone else’s life. “Vern didn’t light the building on fire.”

  “I hope not,” said Ellie, pulling away. But her expression said she thought it was possible.

  “But—” Before Crista could finish the sentence, Ellie was out the suite door with Mac.

  Jackson grabbed two hand towels and doused them with water. Then he handed her one.

  “Hold this ove
r your face and cough. Pretend the smoke is bothering you.”

  “This is crazy.”

  Jackson put a hand on her back and propelled her toward the door. “He’s determined.”

  “I was going to call him tomorrow.”

  “I guess he didn’t want to wait.”

  “This is a coincidence.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Jackson.

  “Of course it matters. You’ve accused my fiancé of arson.” She fell silent as they left the suite.

  There were other people in the hall, some quiet, some speculating about the smell of smoke, all making their way toward the staircase.

  “You might want to start referring to him as your ex-fiancé,” Jackson said in her ear.

  “I’m still wearing his ring.”

  “You can take it off anytime.”

  He reached over her head to grab the top of the door, holding it open as she walked through then handing it off to the man behind him.

  “Protocol says I have to give it back to him,” said Crista as they started down.

  “So, you are giving it back.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what to think. Do I have to answer this very moment?”

  “No. You just have to stick with me. And quit defending him. And put the towel over your face. We’re almost there.”

  The lobby door was held open by successive people exiting. When they cleared the stairwell, Jackson pulled her close beside him.

  “See that family?” He pointed to a man, woman and three kids out front of them.

  “Yes.”

  “Go walk with them. Talk to the wife if you can. Gerhard’s looking for a couple, so you want to pretend you’re with them.”

  Crista had to admit, it made sense. At least it made as much sense as anything else that was going on today.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “Don’t look for me. I’ll keep you in sight. Just go where they go, and I’ll meet you outside.”

  She nodded.

  “Now cough.”

  She coughed, and he gave her a little shove of encouragement. She quickened her pace and came up beside the woman who was holding the hand of the young girl.

  “Did you smell the smoke?” Crista asked her.

  “We were on the fifth floor,” said the woman, looking stricken. “The fire was right down the hall. We had to leave everything behind.”