The Stolen Bride

“No hurry. Give it some thought.”

She fell silent as they headed between the emerald slopes of the club’s golf course. Beyond it, atop a steep rise, stood the grand house where she’d grown up. Her father had built it to command a spectacular view.

She missed it, although she was glad Lance Bolding didn’t get to preen himself in the mansion Andrew Marshall had cherished. The house now belonged to Dr. Ray Van Fleet and his socialite wife, Jean, old friends of her parents. They were probably sitting in the ballroom right now, waiting for the wedding to begin.

The wedding. Already, it seemed unreal. Erin had virtually sleepwalked through the past weeks, as if the preparations and the wedding belonged to someone else.

Now she tried to think of a place to go. Although the Marshall Company owned a number of apartments, she didn’t like the notion that Chet could get a key to any of them. A hotel room? Employees could be bribed, she thought.

Joseph had asked who might want to kill her. If that was really a possibility, she needed to be careful. Very careful.

She started to tremble. Everyone in Sundown Valley seemed to pose a threat. Except for Joseph, of course.

As for Tustin, she didn’t want to be fifty miles away if her mother needed her. Besides, she’d been attacked there.

She tightened her grip on her purse. She wasn’t going to get hysterical in front of Joseph. She’d think of somewhere to go.

His next words drove that concern out of her head—and replaced it with a more immediate one.

“Don’t get excited,” Joseph said, “but I think someone’s following us.”

Chapter Four

“What?” When Erin twisted in her seat, her face betrayed her alarm. Joseph disliked upsetting her. The words had slipped out before he’d had time to think.

He’d noticed the luxury sedan in his rearview mirror on the way around the lake. It had shot off Golf Club Lane some distance behind them, speeding away from the country club until it caught up and then slowing to trail a dozen car lengths behind.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked. “I thought maybe it was a friend of yours.”

Erin shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

There were too many curves and trees for him to make the plate, and the car was painted a neutral shade. The driver appeared to be alone, although Joseph didn’t discount the possibility of someone hunkering down.

He wasn’t ready to phone in a report, however. Joseph didn’t want to get the department involved in what might be simply a Marshall family dispute.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said. “Just some golfer going home.”

“If you think he’s following us, he probably is.” Erin’s hands clenched.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Don’t treat me like an invalid! Even if I am one, sort of.”

“I won’t. But it was premature to say anything.” Joseph hadn’t intended to make his friend any more paranoid than she already was. He felt edgy enough himself after those unpleasant scenes at the country club.

They passed Rainbow Lane, which led to the old fishing area where Joseph and some of his high school buddies used to sneak forbidden beers. But the pier had been declared unsafe years ago, and Joseph had given up drinking after alcoholism cost his father his police career. Joseph didn’t intend to run that risk.

When they swung right on Aurora Avenue toward the Marshalls’ property, the luxury car continued on along Via Puesta del Sol. “False alarm,” Joseph said.

“Good.” Erin beamed. He wondered if she had any idea of how appealing she struck him with those lively eyes and a mouth that fit naturally into a curve.

She’d never been vain about her appearance or her social position. Sometimes Joseph used to forget she came from a rich family. It hadn’t mattered so much when they were kids, but he’d learned long ago that it mattered to adults.

They passed a cluster of cottages. Farther along the pavement, a Do Not Enter sign marked the point where the road became private.

They curved past a stand of eucalyptus on the sprawling estate. When the Boldings’ house emerged into view, Joseph didn’t like it any more than he had the first time he saw it six months ago. Maybe less.

He’d arrived the night of Alice’s near drowning to see police spotlights playing across the water and red lights blinking atop a welter of emergency vehicles. The structure sat in a hollow, its jutting roof giving it the appearance of a brooding misanthrope with hunched shoulders.

He wondered again how Lance Bolding had persuaded aristocratic Alice Marshall to give up her palace for this low-slung house on the far side of the lake, away from her friends and the country club. Although the wooden structure, painted tan with brown trim, had its own pier on the glittering lake, he found it depressing.

The place hadn’t grown on Joseph during his investigation. After reading about Erin’s accident, he’d disliked the thought of her staying out here. He found the atmosphere toxic, both literally and figuratively.

He halted on the turnaround. A covered porch the width of the house supported a glider seat and small table. “This place reminds me of a Louisiana plantation gone to seed.”

“It is gloomy, isn’t it?” Erin made no move to get out. “But the lake’s pretty.”

“That depends.” He decided not to make any further reference to her mother’s close call. “You’ve got a key, I hope?”

“Yes.” Erin reached into her purse. Joseph came around to escort her.

As she emerged, sunlight picked out the blue-white clarity of the diamonds in her tiara and choker. “You’d better leave those behind unless they belong to you,” he said. “I wouldn’t put it past Lance to file a theft report.”

“Actually, they were a wedding present from Chet.”

“Chet makes that kind of money?” He stopped short of asking how much they’d cost. Maybe they were artificial, but he doubted it.

“We pay our CEO well,” Erin told him. “I’ll send them back, of course.”

When they entered the house, the smell that hit Joseph was a mixture of furniture polish and stale air heavy with moisture from the lake. Drawn curtains plunged the living room into semi-gloom.

At least Alice had brought with her the beautiful antique furnishings from her former home. Chosen with taste, the curving divan and beveled-glass china cabinet retained a lightness that brought to mind happier times. Inside the cabinet, row after row of charming bells—glass and ceramic and metal, lovingly collected over many years—sat silent.

He knew from his investigation that no servants lived on the property, and the only full-time staff was the housekeeper. Even so, Joseph called out “Hello?” a couple of times and listened to his voice echo through the rooms. No one answered.

“Wait while I check it out,” he told Erin.

She frowned in confusion. “There’s nobody here.”

“Humor me.” Drawing his gun, he moved quickly from room to room. It wasn’t a proper search. He would never go through a house alone if he believed there was someone lying in wait. But it reassured him that they weren’t likely to meet any surprises.

“Go ahead,” he told Erin on returning to the front room.

“I have to change,” she said. “I’ll work as fast as I can.”

“Need any help?”

“Changing?” She started to smile. “That’s quite an offer.”