Interrogating The Bride

He could tell it was a decision she didn’t feel comfortable with, but it obviously beat an arrest for murder. “Then let’s do it,” he replied.

He left the plane and waited impatiently for her to climb down from the passenger side, the wedding gown hampering her movements. The gown fit her small-framed body perfectly, hugging her slender waist and accentuating the thrust of her breasts against the lacy material. She would have made a beautiful bride.

He had no idea if she was guilty or not. Her story had been far-fetched, but her shock when he’d told her Jason was dead had looked very real.

When she had her feet on the ground they left the hangar and he closed the door and secured the lock before turning to look toward the nearby parking area. His car was there, but he headed toward Luke’s sleek sports car, which was parked next to it.

Luke had warned him that it was possible the police would be looking for him, too, and that it might be dangerous for him to be in his own car. How on earth had a simple operation gone so wrong?

As he slid behind the steering wheel, Caylee got into the passenger seat, the gown threatening to engulf her in the narrow seat. Beneath the floor mat he found the keys, just where Luke had said they would be.

He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Caylee was silent until they were on the highway heading north of the downtown district.

“My apartment is in this direction. I live in the Rockport Apartments. It’s a nice place, has a great pool and clubhouse, although I almost never use them because I spend such long hours at the store,” she said.

Terrific, not only were things seriously messed up at the moment, he was now trapped in a car with a chatterbox. He cast her a quick glance. She stared out the front window, her pretty features strained as her hands folded and unfolded in her lap.

He could smell the scent of her, a pleasant, slightly exotic fragrance. He hadn’t noticed it in the plane but he noticed it now. He gripped the steering wheel more firmly, realizing his hot date with Heidi was probably off.

“This trip with Jason was the first vacation I’ve taken in five years,” she continued. “I can’t believe he’s dead. Maybe your partner is wrong. Maybe this is all just a terrible mistake.” There was more than a little bit of hope in her voice.

“We’ll know soon enough,” he replied, wishing she’d be quiet for just a minute so he could think. He had a bad feeling in his gut. What should have been a simple mission had suddenly become much more complicated. If Jason Worthington was really dead, then he and Caylee Warren were definitely in trouble.

“Why does your company have a safe house?” she asked.

“Because we occasionally need one.” There was no reason for her to know that there were times when Recovery Inc. worked for the government and needed a place to stash a witness or a person in trouble.

He hoped that within the next hour or two she’d go back to her life and he’d go back to his. He had a workout scheduled at the gym in the morning and he wouldn’t mind keeping his date with Heidi.

But there was no question that he wasn’t feeling good about this whole mess. A lump of uneasiness sat heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He knew without doubt that she was in trouble, but he had a feeling he was deep in the muck as well. He knew there had been surveillance cameras on the ferry and even though he’d tried to stay away from them, he couldn’t be sure how successful he’d been.

There was nothing Chief Wendall Kincaid of the Kansas City Police force would like more than to have a reason to arrest Micah. He’d once slept with the chief’s sister, but had made the mistake of not proposing marriage. God help him from women who had the Wedding March and a biological clock resounding inside them.

He glanced over at Caylee, who appeared to be growing more nervous with each passing mile. She’d stopped folding and unfolding her hands in her lap and now twisted a strand of her hair around one of her fingers.

She sat up straighter in the seat as he turned off the highway and onto a gravel road lined by tall trees.

They had left the city behind and her nervous tension was palpable in the small car as she cast him furtive glances.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not taking you out in the woods to hurt you. The house is an old farmhouse on twenty acres of land.”

“That’s good because I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.” She eyed him with another lift of her chin, then sighed. “I just feel like I’ve had enough weirdness to last me an entire lifetime.”

He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he’d certainly categorize finding a bride hiding in the back of a plane right up there on the weird scale.

He released his own sigh as the farmhouse came into view. Majestic oaks flanked the one-story, three-bedroom house, their thick foliage blocking out the moonlight. Lights blazed from the place, and he saw that Troy’s car was parked in front.

Good. Both his partners were there. Surely this whole mess could be sorted out in a matter of minutes. He parked next to Troy’s car, then doused the lights and unbuckled his seat belt.

Within a couple of hours dawn would break. The long night was beginning to weigh heavy on him. He looked at the woman seated next to him. She really was quite pretty with her heart-shaped face and bright green eyes. But any woman who would buy what Jason Worthington was selling obviously wasn’t too bright or was a gold digger with an eye to the Worthington fortune.

As he got out of the car, she fought the ridiculous dress and managed to escape the confines of the car as well. The night air was just as hot, just as humid here as it had been in Louisiana.

“I’m sure this is all just a terrible mistake of some kind,” she said again, looking up at him as they headed for the front door.

“We’ll know soon enough.” He opened the door and ushered her inside. The large living room was decorated like an impersonal hotel suite. The beige sofa was flanked by glass-topped end tables, a coffee table and a matching overstuffed chair set off to one side. An entertainment center held a television, a DVD player and several dog-eared paperback novels.

Caylee followed close behind him, thankfully close-lipped for the moment. He headed for the kitchen where he could hear voices. Troy and Luke would have the most up-to-date news out of Fortuna.

As he entered the kitchen both men stared in his direction. They weren’t looking at him but rather over his shoulder to the petite Caylee in her wedding finery.

“Oh man, we’re in serious trouble here,” Troy said softly, his words tightening the ball of uneasiness in the pit of Micah’s stomach.

CAYLEE DIDN’T know what she found more intimidating, being the only woman in the company of men who looked fit enough to take on an entire army all by themselves or the tall blonde’s words as he gazed at her.

Micah ushered her into a chair at the table as he made the introductions. Troy Sinclair was an inch or so shorter than Micah who she figured stood at least six foot two. His blond hair was cut short and his eyes were the cool gray of a cloudy day. He was dressed in a crisp, white shirt and a pair of charcoal slacks. A suit jacket hung over the back of his chair.

Luke Washington was about Micah’s height with black hair that hung long. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, and looked more biker than businessman. Although both of the other men were attractive, she thought Micah was the most handsome of the three.

She nearly laughed at this thought. She was in trouble. Deep trouble by the sound of things. And yet she was pulling a purely female act by comparing the physical attractiveness of the men she hoped could get her out of this mess.

“What’s going on?” Micah asked once all four of them were seated at the table.

“For one thing her picture has been all over the news,” Luke said. “Although they’re calling her a person of interest, it’s pretty clear they think she had something to do with Jason Worthington’s murder.”

“That’s crazy,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t kill Jason. All I did was run from him when I got the chance.” She felt as if she’d been thrust into a bad dream and couldn’t wake up.

“What’s equally bad is that they’ve already tied you to it, too,” Troy said to Micah. “Kincaid called my cell an hour ago looking for you. Apparently one of the surveillance cameras on the ferry caught your image and because Jason’s permanent residence is here, the locals down there contacted Kincaid. I’ve got to tell you, it was the first time I’ve ever heard any real joy in that man’s voice.”

“Kincaid? Who is that?” Caylee asked.

“Chief of Police. He hates Micah’s guts. There’s nothing he’d like better than to have a reason, any reason, to lock him up,” Troy said.

Caylee looked at Micah, but he offered no further explanation. “Who found the body?” he asked.

“A maid,” Luke answered. “Apparently Jason liked a nightcap right before he went to bed and there was a standing order for her to bring him a glass of brandy before he turned in each night. She went to deliver the drink and found him stabbed to death in bed.”

All three men turned their attention on Caylee. “I don’t know how many ways I can tell you all that I had nothing to do with it.” Blood filled her cheeks, warming them in a blush of frustration. “Do any of you see any blood on me? Surely if I’d stabbed Jason I’d be covered in his blood. Or maybe you think I stabbed him, then changed into this wedding gown to make a run for it.”

“I meant to ask you about the gown,” Luke said.

“Don’t ask,” Micah replied darkly. “What I want to know is what we should do with her.” He thumbed a finger in Caylee’s direction as if she were an unsightly wart that had suddenly appeared on the back of his hand.

“Maybe I should just go to the police and tell them I’m innocent,” she said. “I mean, surely they would be reasonable.”

Micah laughed, a dry bark that held no humor. “The murder took place on Fortuna, which means Louisiana law enforcement will be in charge of the investigation. If you’re going to turn yourself in, then be prepared to spend some time there. And you’d better have a great criminal defense lawyer in your corner because right now you look good for this crime.”

Each word he spoke filled her more and more with concern. She’d like to believe that no innocent person was ever sent to prison for a crime not committed, but she’d watched enough television to know that simply wasn’t the case.

She’d had the means and the opportunity to kill Jason Worthington. More importantly, if she told them that he was acting weird and she’d been frightened of him, then she also had what could be defined as a motive.

“Okay, give me another alternative,” she finally said.

“What I recommend is that both of you stay here until we have more information to make some reasonable decisions,” Troy said. “The news reports of the murder have been sketchy at best up to this point. It’s only been a couple of hours since the body was found, but needless to say because of the Worthington name, things are going to move fast.”

Caylee looked at Micah, who returned her gaze with those pale blue eyes that revealed nothing. “Did you meet Jason’s father, Grant?”

“No, there was no reason for me to meet him. Jason and I were just casually dating,” she replied.

“And you always agree to go off with a man you’re casually dating for a weeklong vacation?” Micah asked.

It was obvious by the tone of his voice that he either didn’t believe the story she’d told him or he didn’t like how she conducted her life. But she didn’t care what Micah Stone thought of her or her story. She just wanted this nightmare to end.

“This was my first time to agree to a vacation with a man I was dating. Trust me when I say it will definitely be the last time,” she replied.

“Look, I know it’s been a long night,” Troy said as he got up from the table. “Why don’t we all get some sleep. In a couple of hours we’ll have more information and we can decide what should be done then.”

Luke stood and covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Why don’t we plan on meeting back here around noon?”

Caylee wanted to tell them both to sit back down, to solve this mess right here, right now instead of leaving her alone with Micah, who looked none too happy with the situation.

She remained seated at the table as Micah walked his two partners to the front door. Staring out the window into what was left of the dark night, she thought of the moment she realized she’d needed to escape from Jason.

He’d had her model the wedding gown in his suite of rooms. It had been the last thing she’d wanted to do, but had capitulated in order to keep the peace. After all, Jason was her ride back to the States. As she’d walked into the room his eyes had lit with a fervent light of desire that had pushed her over the edge and made her realize the relationship was going to end badly.

She’d had a feeling that Jason was a man accustomed to getting his own way and it was about to get ugly. She certainly didn’t know him or love him enough for a commitment. She hadn’t even wanted to sleep with him.

When she’d gone back to her suite of rooms to change, she’d gone directly into her bathroom and it was there she’d decided not to waste another minute. Every internal alarm she possessed was screaming at her to run, to escape. So she’d gone out the bathroom window.

And now he was dead and she was in trouble.

She looked at Micah as he entered the kitchen. “There are three bedrooms. You can pick where you’d like to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep,” she replied. “I keep going over everything in my mind, trying to figure out what I should have done differently.”

“I suggest you try to get some rest. I have a feeling things are only going to get more stressful from here on out.”

“I should call my family,” she said thoughtfully.

“No phone calls tonight,” he said firmly.

She straightened in the chair. “But, they’ll be worried about me.”

“They’ll just have to stay worried for now,” he replied. “If it was just you here I wouldn’t give a damn who you called, but I’m in this mess, too, and I don’t want a slip of your tongue to allow anyone to figure out where we are, so no calls tonight. Now I’ll show you the bedrooms.” He looked at her expectantly.

She got up from the table. The wedding gown felt as if it weighed a million pounds. “I don’t suppose you have a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in my size hanging around.”

“No, but I can probably find you a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in my size,” he replied as they walked through the living room and down a hallway.

“Bathroom is there,” he said, pointing to a doorway on the right. She peeked in to see blue towels and a matching shower curtain. “Bedroom one, two and three.” He pointed to each of the next three doorways.

She walked into the nearest one where there was a double bed, a dresser and nothing else. “This is fine,” she said, suddenly more weary than she’d ever been in her life. She sat on the edge of the bed. “If you could just get me those clothes, I won’t bother you anymore.”

He nodded and disappeared from the doorway. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Jason was a man who liked to get his own way and she had a feeling Micah Stone was cut from the same cloth. Well, he’d know soon enough that she was a woman who wasn’t pushed easily.

He returned with a black T-shirt and a pair of gray jogging pants. He also brought with him a length of rope. “I figured you could use the rope as a belt. I doubt you’ll be able to keep those pants up without one. There are new toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom. Feel free to use anything else in there that you need. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him. She got up and locked the door, although she had a feeling if Micah wanted to come back inside, no simple lock would keep him out. Still, pressing the button on the doorknob gave her a small sense of control.

Control. She nearly laughed at the idea as she unzipped the hateful gown and stepped out of it. The laughter never materialized, and instead tears burned hot in her eyes.

What a mess. Agreeing to go off with Jason had been uncharacteristic of her, but he’d been charmingly insistent and she’d been too long without both a vacation and a boyfriend.

She pulled on the T-shirt over her bra, instantly engulfed by the fragrance of Micah’s faint cologne, a clean scent mixed with a bit of spice. She found it oddly comforting as she pulled down the bedspread and crawled beneath the sheets.

That was her last thought before sleep overtook her. When she woke up, sunshine danced into the nearby window, and by the cast of the sun she figured it must be late morning.

Surely by now the authorities in Fortuna would have caught Jason’s killer and her name would be cleared. She could go home, get back to work at the store and put this entire nightmare behind her.

She got out of bed and pulled on the jogging pants, finding them ridiculously big, but certainly better than the damned wedding gown. Using the rope as a belt, she managed to secure them around her waist, then she opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hall.

The scent of coffee rode the air and the sound of voices came from the living room. After listening just a moment she realized the voices were coming from the television.

She went across the hall into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. The makeup she’d worn the night before hadn’t magically disappeared through the long night. Mascara smudged the skin beneath her eyes and gray eye shadow had found the crease in her eyelids and clung heavily.

She eyed the shower longingly and gave into temptation. She’d face the day better if she could wash the night off her. She stood beneath a hot spray of water and wished the events of the night before had been nothing more than a crazy nightmare. She wanted to step out of the shower and be back in her apartment, getting ready for a day at the store.

But of course that didn’t happen. She redressed in the sweats and T-shirt, brushed her teeth with one of the new toothbrushes and worked the tangles out of her hair. Finally she felt prepared to take on whatever the day might bring.

Vindication, that’s all she wanted—That and a return to her normal, boring life. It was going to be a long time before she’d be interested in an exotic vacation again.

Micah sat on the sofa, looking more stern, more dangerous than he had the night before. A weight of dread filled her stomach. He didn’t look like a man pleased with the morning news.

“Good morning,” she said.

His head moved in a curt nod. “Coffee is in the kitchen and there are some doughnuts as well.”

“What’s happened since last night?” she asked.

“Go get your coffee and then we’ll talk,” he replied. His eyes gave nothing away, but she knew the news wasn’t good.

In the kitchen she found the coffee pot half full and a box of glazed doughnuts on the table. She poured herself a cup of coffee but ignored the doughnuts. Her stomach was twisted in too many knots to eat.

With coffee cup in hand, she returned to the living room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Micah. Once again she was struck by his handsomeness. He wasn’t a pretty boy—his features were too bold, too lean to be considered handsome in the classic sense.

She ignored the slight flutter in her stomach just as she’d ignored the doughnuts. The last thing she needed at the moment was to feel any kind of attraction for another man. It was a man who’d gotten her into this debacle.

“Unfortunately things look less promising for us this morning than they did last night,” he said as he pressed a remote control button that muted the television.

She glanced at the screen where an attractive blonde stood in front of a weather map, then looked back at Micah, dreading whatever he was about to tell her.

“What do you know about the maid who was in Fortuna with you and Jason,” he asked.

She sat back and frowned. “Not much. Her name is Marie. She’s about my age, maybe a little older. I got the impression she’s worked for the Worthington family for years. Why?”

“She’s been all over the news, telling every reporter who will listen that she knew you were nothing more than a gold digger when she met you, and that she knows you killed poor young Mr. Worthington, then stole valuables from the house.”

Caylee gasped. “But that’s crazy. I didn’t steal anything from there except the gown that I wore out. As far as me being a gold digger, that’s utterly ridiculous. I have my own money. I didn’t need any from Jason Worthington. My jewelry store was financially successful when my father owned it, and when he died five years ago and it passed to me, I managed to increase profits tenfold. I’m a wealthy woman in my own right.” She stopped her tirade to draw breath. “If anything was stolen last night then I would suggest they check the maid’s luggage.”

“The general consensus seems to be that you and I were in this together.” His pale eyes bore into hers with a hint of acrimony. “The theory is that you killed Jason and stole a bunch of stuff and I was there as the getaway driver, so to speak.”

“This is all crazy. How can this be happening,” she said more to herself than to him.

“The how doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice terse. “What does matter is that as of ten o’clock this morning, arrest warrants were issued for both of us.”

Once again Caylee released a gasp. She grabbed hold of the sofa’s arm, feeling as if the world had suddenly tilted and she was about to fall off. “I don’t understand, how could they have done that already? What happened to an investigation?”

“It’s called a rush to judgment,” he said. His gaze left hers and focused on the television where the words, “Murder in Paradise” danced across the bottom of the screen. He hit the remote button to bring up the sound to hear a male reporter speaking.

“… Marie Carvel made a grisly discovery. Curled in a fetal ball beneath the gold and pink bedspread was the body of her employer. Jason Worthington had been stabbed three times with a knife that has yet to be recovered.”

Caylee shot up rigid, her heart pounding in stunned surprise. “Mute it,” she exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” Micah asked, hitting the mute button.

She stared at him. “The gold and pink bedspread they just talked about, that wasn’t in Jason’s room. The bedspread in his room was navy. The pink and gold, that was the bedspread in my room.” She frowned. “While I was in the bathroom escaping out the window, Jason must have come into my room and gotten into my bed.”

“Wouldn’t the killer have seen his face?”

Caylee frowned. “Not necessarily. Maybe he had the blanket up over his head. He was childish like that.”

Micah stared at her for a long minute. “So, that means one of two things,” he said slowly. “The killer had to have followed him from his room to your room.”

“You said two things,” she said, her heart began to beat in an unsteady rhythm as she anticipated his next words.

“Or Jason wasn’t the intended victim at all,” he said, his words causing an arctic chill to crawl up her back.

“You were.”

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