Jilt Trip

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.