Jilt Trip

“You know he’s not drunk!” Bob said in disbelief.

“I don’t know anything of the kind.” Julian, his hand still on Bob’s shoulder, hustled him toward the door.

Bob’s eyes bulged. “But…but—”

“It isn’t uncommon for a groom to take something to calm his nerves,” Julian stated, calmly brushing away the wrinkles Bob had left on the arm of his perfectly cut suit. “He probably shouldn’t have had alcohol with it, though.”

“But—”

“Bob.” Nikki cut him off. She signaled Julian with a jerk of her head.

He opened the door. “Did you actually see anything unusual prior to Carter’s drinking the champagne, Bob?”

“No, but—”

“Neither did we,” Julian said as they left the room.

“Remind me not to involve Bob in any more high-level management decisions,” Nikki muttered.

“They’re coming back, aren’t they?” Saunders began to hyperventilate.

She eyed him with dismay. “Not you, too?”

Saunders threw away the remnants of his boutonniere. “Why couldn’t you have just told him?”

Nikki looked down at Carter and brushed a strand of hazel hair off his forehead. She knew his eyes, if they were open, would match. She’d always thought it an extremely attractive combination.

“Nikki?” Saunders squatted beside her.

She sighed. “He wouldn’t have believed me.”

“I would have backed you up.”

“You’re backing me up now,” she said ruefully. “Besides, I didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“You mean…you mean, even Julian doesn’t know?”

Nikki shook her head.

“How did you talk him into this?”

“With Julian, it’s all a matter of approach. I believe he was dating DeeAnn and introduced her to Carter. She immediately dropped Julian and went on to bigger game.”

“And now he’s getting even. I thought he bought into our takeover theory too fast.”

Nikki reached out and gripped Saunders’s hand. “It’ll be okay. Carter will be mad, but I know if you keep digging, you’ll find that Karrenbrock is planning a takeover, outrageous as it sounds.”

Saunders nodded miserably. “How long do you think he’ll be out?”

“I have no idea.” Nikki eyed Carter, half afraid he’d come to. “They were your sleeping pills.”

Moaning, Saunders held his head in his hands. A lock of hair slipped, revealing a bald spot. “He’ll have us arrested.”

“He’ll give us a bonus.”

“I’ll be disbarred.”

“You’ll receive an official commendation.”

“He won’t let me be best man.”

Nikki glared at Saunders’ hangdog face. “Do you really think he’ll marry Dee Ann after this? Even when…everything’s clear?” She refused to consider it. As far as Nikki was concerned, this engagement was kaput. Eventually, perhaps within the next decade, Carter would thank them all.

She loosened Carter’s collar and felt his pulse. Slow and steady. Strong. His breathing was fine. He probably wouldn’t be out too long.

A single knock sounded at the door. Julian pushed a wheelchair inside and quickly glanced up and down the hallway. “No sign of the good reverend.”

“Where’s Bob?” Nikki caught the rose-decorated afghan Julian tossed to her.

“In the car.”

“He’s not going to drive, is he?” she asked.

“Hardly. He’s asking for the champagne.” Julian inhaled deeply. “I just may give it to him.”

“Which reminds me.” Nikki got to her feet and gathered the paper cups and bottle, emptying the contents in the nearest potted greenery. “This will liven up their drab lives.”

“Uh, Nikki?” Saunders pointed to a growing puddle. “That’s a fake plant.”

“At least she can’t kill it,” Julian said.

“Don’t say that word!” Saunders pleaded.

“Will you two please get Carter in the wheelchair!” Nikki closed her eyes and reined in her temper. Criminal masterminds they were not. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I’ll find something to clean up the mess,” Saunders offered, carefully avoiding Carter’s comatose form.

Ultimately, it took Nikki’s help to maneuver Carter’s heavy, limp body into the wheelchair.

“Julian, see if there’s a back way out.” Nikki arranged the afghan around Carter, concealing everything but his shoes. Then she tied a scarf around his head, Russian peasant style.

“What do you think?” She pulled a few tendrils over his forehead and stepped back.

Saunders looked doubtful. Well, it was too late to quit now.

A tight-faced Julian returned. “There’s a back exit, but it would mean wheeling him around on the sidewalk.”

“Better than wheeling him through the front of the church,” Nikki decided. “Is the coast clear?”

“I’m just about finished here.” Saunders swiped at the puddle with something Nikki thought looked horribly like a child’s choir robe.

“You are finished.”

Saunders dropped the white cloth as though it had burnt him.

It was eerily quiet, with nothing but the occasional squeak of the wheels accompanying them as they maneuvered Carter down the hall. About the time Nikki pinpointed what was different, the organ began playing again.

The majestic sound reverberated in the empty halls.

Nikki gasped. “It’s ‘Trumpet Voluntary’!”

“So?” Julian said over his shoulder.

“That’s usually the processional music!” Nikki stopped and listened.

“Hurry up!” Saunders urged, his voice cracking. The pressure was obviously getting to him.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” she said to Julian. The music continued. “You go on ahead.”

“What?” Saunders screeched as Julian pulled him along. “She can’t abandon us!”

Nikki ignored him and ran in the other direction. She passed by the groom’s dressing room and reached the antechamber in time to see Reverend Royer swish through the paneled door.

Good. Maybe he’d stop the organist.

She waited several seconds, breathing quickly.

The music swelled.

Nikki made her way down the dark labyrinthine hallway toward a stream of light seeping from under a door. The music grew fainter. Holding her breath, she stopped in front of the door and slowly cracked it open, hoping it wasn’t the sanctuary.

No noise came from inside the room. Nikki pushed the door open farther. She had an impression of peach and blue, with a large mirror surrounded by lights. The scent of perfume and hair spray hung in the air. Plastic clothes bags, tissue paper and other wedding residue littered the sofa.

This was the bride’s room.

And it was empty.

“Oh, my God!” she whispered. “They are starting without him!”

Hurling herself toward the door across the room, Nikki yanked it open and found herself in the church vestibule.

As she stared, one taffeta-clad bridesmaid began the hesitation step.

Left standing at the entrance was the maid of honor.

And the bride on the arm of her father.

An icy, regal beauty, Dee Ann looked lovely. Her blond hair was upswept and her dress was a stark column of beaded satin. A cathedral train swirled behind her.

Nikki almost felt sorry for her. Dee Ann had obviously decided that the sound of the wedding music would bring Carter to the altar.

How could Nikki stop this? What could she say? For one hysterical moment, she thought about blurting out the truth, but no one would believe her.

Frankly, she found it hard to believe herself.

A small woman dressed in black fussed with the bride’s train. No doubt the wedding coordinator or her assistant.

Nikki hissed and beckoned, but the woman ignored her. Creeping forward, Nikki tried again. “I have to talk with you!”

The wedding coordinator, her mouth set in a reproving O flitted toward her. “Shush! We’re taping.”

The music grew louder and the maid of honor hugged Dee Ann before starting down the aisle.

This was awful. Surely they’d noticed that Carter wasn’t there yet?

“You’ve got to stop her!” Nikki implored the woman.

“I’ll do no such thing!”

Nikki lunged toward Dee Ann.

The woman, surprisingly strong for her size, restrained her.

The organ swelled and Dee Ann stepped over the threshold as Nikki watched in horror. “No! The groom isn’t there!”

“What are you, hon, an ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. If only she were. “I—he…he’s sick.”

“What do you mean, sick?”

“He suddenly collapsed and…appendicitis, I think.”

The woman’s fingers dug into Nikki’s arms and her face whitened.

“Tell Dee Ann not to worry.” Nikki pried the coordinator’s fingers off her arm. “We’ve taken him to get medical attention. But…” Trailing off, Nikki pointed to the empty doorway.

With a screech, the woman whirled through it.

Nikki didn’t stay to see the disaster unfold. Running down the gray marble steps of the church, she hurried toward one of the three limousines parked in front.

“Did you stop her in time?” Julian asked and opened the car door.

Gasping for breath, Nikki shook her head as she climbed in.

“Oh, boy.” Opposite her, a sweating Saunders supported a still-unconscious Carter.

“Oh, boy?” Bob’s voice cracked from the front seat. “That’s all you have to say? After…after…” He buried his head on his knees.

Julian slammed the driver’s-side door and put the car in gear. Nikki swiveled toward him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Is Bob up to this?” she asked in a low voice.

Julian shrugged.

With raised eyebrows, Nikki nodded to a quiet Saunders. Shaking his head, Julian rolled his eyes.

Bob moaned.

Nikki reached a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “Bob, why don’t you stay here and go home with your wife and kids. We need someone to tell us what happens.”

“Lucky stiff,” Saunders muttered.

“Thank you.” Bob sounded so pathetically grateful that Nikki regretted involving him. But he’d been the first one to notice something amiss. He deserved the credit.

Not that he wanted credit for everything they’d done today, she supposed, watching as the mild-mannered accountant scrambled out of the car, bumping his head in his haste.

It would be all right. Nikki planned to take sole responsibility, even if she had to lie to protect the others, though she doubted it would come to that.

Carter could be reasonable, she thought, glancing at his sleeping face. And unreasonable, though she’d seen more of that side than the others had.

Bob slammed the door and without looking back, ran toward the church steps.

Nikki relaxed against the plush seat as Julian pulled away from the curb.

“Think he’ll crack?” Saunders asked, looking as though he, himself, was considering it.

Nikki shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t let him take any blame. He wasn’t that involved.”

Saunders sighed. “You know, it might not be up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve broken some laws here.”

Nikki chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Which ones?”

Saunders gaped at her. “Kidnapping comes to mind.”

She gestured to the sleeping Carter. “He fell ill and we’re seeking medical attention.”

Julian snorted. “The real crime is bottling that bilge and calling it champagne.”

Saunders threw up his hands in a gesture of frustration and Carter shifted at the movement, his breath fluttering the ends of the scarf.

“I think we can take the scarf off his head now.” Nikki tugged on the knot. “Did you have any trouble?” She’d been afraid to ask.

“Nah.” Julian signaled a right turn. “We told the other drivers that the old lady snored when she was asleep.”

Old lady. Nikki grinned.

Saunders appeared to have calmed down. “Was it really bad back there, Nikki?”

“Yes.” She stared out the tinted window, seeing not the lush palms lining the boulevard, or the restored Victorian houses, but Dee Ann standing in the church, waiting to walk down the aisle.

“How…how far…?”

Nikki knew what Saunders was trying to ask. There was breathless silence in the car. “She was walking down the aisle before I finally got the coordinator to listen to me. After that, I ran.”

“Good call.” Julian’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

Saunders looked over at her. “What did you say to her?”

What had she told that woman? “That Carter was sick. I might have mentioned appendicitis.”

“Appendicitis?” he asked sharply.

Nikki shrugged. “It was the only emergency disease I could think of.”

“Hmm.”

“That’ll let Dee Ann save face at least,” Julian commented as he turned onto Seawall Boulevard.

After that, no one said much.

Nikki stared out the car window as mile after mile of Galveston Island rolled past. The bright midday sun reflected off the murky Gulf of Mexico. Drilling rigs speckled the horizon and sea gulls circled the beach, looking for food scraps among the trash.

Against her will, she recalled the countless times she’d made this same drive with Carter to the same destination: their boat, the Honey Bee.

The happiest moments of their brief time together had been spent on the Honey Bee. They would leave Belden Industries behind, sometimes without warning, without planning. Carter would appear in the door of her office with a look she immediately recognized and she’d turn off her computer, grab her purse and meet him at the elevator.

The Honey Bee had no telephone. No fax machine. A radio and portable television, yes, but they didn’t watch much TV. Life was slow. Simple.

They were together and it was enough.

She gazed at the man sleeping next to Saunders.

Carter was driven to succeed and his successes were never enough. As soon as he’d conquer one goal, he’d set himself another.

And Nikki had been right there beside him. She’d been fascinated by him, by his single-minded devotion to the business he’d built. The problem, she knew now, was that there had been too much hero worship on her part. After a while, the very qualities which had drawn her to him, pushed her away.

He hadn’t changed. She had.

But now, she suspected he’d changed, too. There had been a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated to call off a wedding for a lot less evidence than Nikki and the others had gathered. Belden Industries was everything to him and he was everything to it. Without Carter Belden as its head, Belden Industries wouldn’t survive.

Carter Belden worked for no man—or woman. If Victor Karrenbrock gained controlling interest, Carter would walk away, but would leave his essence behind.

A shiver prickled her skin. Today, she would have acted exactly the same even without the other…complication Saunders had discovered.

“Which way?” Julian broke into her thoughts.

“Left at the entrance to Dolphin Bay.”

Sand dusted the edges of the two-lane road. Rusty mailboxes lined the entrance to the small beach house neighborhood. Street signs were carved into bleached gray wood. Everything looked the same as it always had.

Nikki felt hot, even inside the air-conditioned car. They were overdressed for the beach, and she couldn’t wait to climb aboard the Honey Bee and slip into her swimsuit.

The road deteriorated the closer to the beach they traveled. Several children dragging neon-bright beach towels stopped to gawk as the black limousine prowled their street.

“Turn on Conch,” she said.

Julian wrestled the big car around the corner, the wheels momentarily sinking into the soft sand. With a lurch, the car popped back onto the road. Nikki sighed.

And there it was—the Honey Bee, still berthed in the private cove she leased from a beach-house owner who wasn’t interested in boating.

Julian pulled the car as close to the dock as he could and stopped.

With the air conditioner no longer running, the interior of the car quickly became like a sauna.

“Now what?” Saunders asked when Nikki made no move to get out.

“I don’t know,” she answered, at a loss for the first time since the close of business yesterday, suddenly realizing that it was a Saturday in late June. The height of tourist season. And tourists abounded aplenty.

Why hadn’t she foreseen this? She’d driven straight into a casual beach-house community in a black limousine. And she was about to have two formally dressed men carry an unconscious groom aboard a boat.

And nobody would notice?

“Nikki?”

“I’m thinking.”

Julian turned and faced her. Both men waited.

Why did she have to make all the decisions? “Well.” She eyed the curious beach goers and made up her mind.

“My dear granny from the old country has come to pay a visit.” Nikki tied the scarf around Carter’s head again.

“Hey, it worked before,” she said when Saunders and Julian exchanged a look. “Release the trunk, Julian.”

Opening the car door to a blast of heat, Nikki climbed out, wincing as her black patent pumps sank into the dry sand. Removing the folded wheelchair from the trunk, she struggled to pull it apart.

Sand sifted into her shoes. Sweat dampened the silk blouse beneath her black suit. She’d worn black on purpose. Somehow, the occasion had called for it. But now, with the sun blazing on her back, she regretted it.

Besides, they all looked like gangsters.

The wheelchair ready, she tried to push it toward the open door of the limousine. The wheels sank. And this was without Carter’s weight. She sighed. Kidnapping Carter had seemed so simple this morning.

Julian leaned an elbow against the car. Saunders fussed with the afghan.

Carter’s face turned ruddy and sweat dampened the hair over his forehead.

“This isn’t going to work,” Julian said in a low voice. “How are we going to get him into the wheelchair with everybody watching?”

“Can’t we just slide him in?”

“He’s supposed to be an old woman.” Saunders joined them at the door. “We have to treat him with respect. We can’t haul him around like a side of beef.”

Nikki pushed the chair as close to the open door as she could. “I’ll block the view from this side. You and Julian get him in as best you can.”

Grumbling, they tugged, pulled and slid Carter into the wheelchair. Nikki tried to keep him covered.

The wheels stuck in the sand. They all stared.

Julian sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

Saunders scanned the distant horizon. “What’s happened to me? I had a nice life. I had a job that didn’t bore me and supported me in the style I desire.” He wiped his forehead. “And what do I do? Why, I drug and kidnap my boss, of course. Then I stick him in the sand to roast like a pig at a luau!”

Carter turned his head in the first sign of recovering consciousness. Three soft gasps were carried away on the gentle beach breeze.

“Doomed.” Saunders slumped against the car.

“We’re all doomed.”

“Nonsense.” Nikki grabbed hold of the wheelchair handles and tugged. “C’mon. The three of us should be able to move this thing.”

They managed—barely. Nikki expected to hear police sirens at any moment. As they bumped along the wooden pier, Carter moaned.

They walked faster and pushed him up the ramp onto the Honey Bee and out of sight.

Once on board, the men slung Carter onto the berth in the master stateroom and Julian ran back to the limo for supplies.

In the pilothouse, Nikki started the engine and checked to see that the radio worked. She let out a breath in relief. From here on out, it should be smooth sailing—at least for the Honey Bee.

“Nikki?” Saunders stuck his head in. “You’re going to have to tell him.”

She knew. “Let me handle Carter. You work on the legal end.”

“All right, then. Speaking as an attorney, I’d advise you not to venture into international waters.”

“I’ve got to sail out far enough so Carter won’t jump overboard and try to swim back.”

Saunders gave her a stern lawyer-look. Nikki didn’t like his stern lawyer-looks. Saunders, surprisingly, made a very intimidating lawyer. It must be something about the contrast in personae.

“We don’t know if the Karrenbrocks will call the police,” he warned. “We don’t know who thought we looked suspicious here at the beach and called the authorities.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Any rational person would think we looked suspicious.”

Julian was back on board. “I stowed everything below. Looks like you’re all set.”

“The papers?”

“Right here.” He tapped a leather briefcase. “We’re going to keep digging. You work on Carter.”

Nikki shivered.

“I know,” Saunders said with a gentle touch to her arm. “Don’t worry. Check in at eighteen hundred hours. We’ll be standing by.”

She nodded, loathe to see them leave. Both men had shed their jackets and she did likewise, peeling the black gabardine off her sweaty blouse.

They checked in on Carter one last time. He had slipped back into a deep motionless sleep.

“Looks like he’ll be out a while yet,” Julian said. “At least long enough for you to get away from shore.”

Nikki drew a deep breath and nodded.

Julian grinned. “Well, then. Bon voyage.”

She watched as he and Saunders walked down the ramp, jackets slung over their shoulders. They reached the bottom, cast off the ropes and waved.

Nikki waved back, then shoved the throttle into reverse.

The Honey Bee drifted away from the dock and for the first time in three years, seven months and twenty-two days, Nikki was completely alone with Carter Belden.

Her husband.

3

THE HAPPIEST TIMES of Carter’s life were spent aboard the Honey Bee with Nikki. Just heading south in the car was enough to loosen the kinks in his shoulders. Inhaling the salty air cleared his mind, the feel of gritty warm sand underneath his feet lowered his blood pressure. As the sun beat on his head, stress evaporated, leaving him pleasantly sleepy.

As soon as the Honey Bee was under way, he’d indulge himself in a nap, leaving Nikki at the helm.

Rocked to sleep by the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, Carter always fell into a deep, healing slumber, leaving his well-being in Nikki’s capable hands.

He trusted her as he’d trusted no other person. With Nikki, he shared his life and his dreams. When he needed her, she was there for him. Always. Without question.

Ah, Nikki. Just the thought of her filled an emptiness in his life that he hadn’t realized was there. He couldn’t remember the time before Nikki.

He inhaled with a sigh, reassured by the familiar faint musty smell of the Honey Bee’s bedding. Nikki combated mildew with the fervor of a religious zealot, but never completely obliterated it, despite her best efforts.

They so seldom had the opportunity to air the bedding in the master stateroom because it was frequently in use. Once he was in Nikki’s arms, he forgot everything but her touch, her scent and her taste. Smiling, Carter burrowed deeper into the pillow.

He supposed they could have adjourned to the guest cabin in the bow on occasion, but it was subject to the movement of the boat more than the master stateroom and not nearly as restful. Not that they rested all that much.

Shifting on the berth, Carter sniffed. Nothing from the galley. Nikki must not have started dinner yet.

He visualized her standing barefoot in the galley, wearing a swimsuit top and cutoff jeans. Her skin would be lightly tanned a peachy bronze, liberally sprinkled with freckles in spite of all the sun block she slathered over her body.

He’d come to depend on Nikki’s instantaneous transformation from business partner to domestic goddess. The boat was always stocked. He’d asked her once how she managed to have fresh lettuce, rib-eye steaks and whole milk for his coffee. She told him she always kept provisions in the office refrigerator, rotating them so she and Carter could leave at a moment’s notice.

He was grateful, he truly was. He should dictate a memo reminding himself to tell her so. Where was his tape recorder? He tried to search the shelf above the berth, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. They were so heavy…