The Wedding Gift Page 12

  She sensed he was uncomfortable with her strong-arm tactics. Male egos! Cindi got up from her chair and made herself comfortable on his lap. Her arms enfolded him close. “What I did had nothing to do with your manly pride that declares I am a man who protects his woman. You are no longer just you, and I’m not just me. We are a team. He insults you, he insults me.” Cindi shrugged. “I wasn’t totally heartless, and offered him one of our penis balloons for his bruised nuts, but took it back when he bad-mouthed you. I told him he didn’t have any balls.” Her eyes twinkled, and she smoothed her fingers over the front of his zipper. “Hmm, right and tight. Wanna go into the den and make a fire in the fireplace? We can try out the new couch.”

  “Just like you to make light of this situation.” He removed temptation and placed a kiss in the palm of her hand, the hand that defended his honor. “Stop trying to distract me. We’re not done here. I have a lot to learn about love, but I’ve got the best teacher. This may sound crazy, but I’ve a picture in my head of a caveman thumping his chest with his fists, declaring to the world ‘this is my woman’ before throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off. You are mine, Cindi Pearl. I want to make love to you, but the anger in my body is so out of control, I’m afraid I might hurt you. Let’s christen our coffee maker and you can tell me what happened from start to finish. Don’t leave anything out.”

  He hadn’t taken the full story lightly, but did laugh when she told him about the desserts that made everyone tipsy, and Bertie stashing chocolate bottles in her purse. He’d liked to have seen photos of the decorations, and was genuinely disappointed when she said he couldn’t see the sensuous gifts until after they were married. When they’d gone to bed last night, he’d made tender love to her, but she sensed the lingering storm in him.

  This morning, Preston was in a contemplative mood on their way into work. When Lincoln came in, her boss’s temper was that of a bear who’d been waken up much too soon during his long winter nap. He paused in front of Cindi’s desk. “No one, absolutely no one, accuses my wife of not doing her job. We’re going to get that son of a bitch.” He had her cancel all his appointments and contact the airport to have their jet ready to fly to LA to pick up their West Coast forensic accountant. Preston had walked into Lincoln’s office a few minutes later. Shortly before lunch, things heated up when Nate Haines arrived with a minimum of explanation.

  His door remained closed, and Cindi declared Lincoln’s office the war room. The cafeteria delivered fresh coffee every two hours and brought lunch at one. It was a good thing Lincoln had his own private bathroom. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what was going on, and the subject of their investigation.

  It was already after five, and she didn’t know whether to stay or leave. She’d waited patiently all day and wanted to know what was going on. She knocked softly on Lincoln’s door and didn’t wait for permission to enter. The long vertical blinds were closed, shutting out the festive display of Christmas lights on the train station and gift shops across the road. Two words flashed through her mind: doom and gloom.

  Nate’s face reflected a somber expression while he paced the office, talking on his cell phone. He was almost killed a few months ago, and a slight limp indicated he was still suffering from his injuries. The rolled-back sleeves of his white dress shirt revealed strong arms, and he’d pulled the knot of his navy and red tie away from his neck. The federal agent was heart-stopping handsome with sable-brown hair and deep-set greenish-blue eyes. She knew him to be thirty-four and a career man. Currently, Samantha was working a dangerous undercover assignment for the FBI, as a special favor for Nate. Her best friend was good at her job, but Cindi had a bad feeling about this operation.

  Preston and Lincoln had set up their laptops on the conference table. They, too, had removed their jackets and draped them over the backs of their chairs. Their dark sweaters reflected their frame of mind. Two of the wall screens displayed financial accounts, and the third a series of letters. She frowned when she recognized the name Abbott, and slowly approached the wall screen. “Why are you investigating Bertie?

  Preston’s heart did a happy dance at the sight of his love, and he held out an arm in invitation. He was in such a black mood that morning that he’d forgotten to tell her how cute she looked in a green A-line dress that brushed the top of her knees. Her earrings were in the shape of Christmas trees. “Our personal ray of sunshine.” He pulled out one of the chairs for her to sit next to him and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. “We were just going to ask you to join us. We’ve a few questions about Mrs. Abbott.”

  Nate took a seat at the head of the table and reached for his long yellow pad, filled with personal notes he’d made on their case. He offered Cindi an apologetic smile. “Helluva way to spend the week before your wedding.”

  “As long as you let the groom loose in time to say his I-dos.”

  “No problem. Have you ever crammed for an exam? That’s what we’re doing. Preston opened a giant can of worms. Because of his father’s illegal activities, Leland was a questionable blip on the FBI’s radar, but he’s a star now.”

  “That’s because my future husband is so good at his job,” Cindi said. “I’m aware his initial investigation started as a hunch, but can Leland come back at him for illegal snooping?”

  “We are walking a thin line. Preston notified Lincoln of suspicious activities, and your boss reached out to me the same day, so the initial contact is documented. This is now an official investigation, so we are gathering as much information as possible before our team takes over. Preston’s instincts were correct, and were based on his involvement in Leland, Sr.’s prosecution. It’s confirmed. Someone from Leland’s office requested the trial records that revealed the list of witnesses on the Ponzi scheme. His little game of revenge is going to bite him in the ass, big time.”

  “You still haven’t told me why you are investigating a ninety-year-old.”

  “Has she ever spoken about her family or background?” Nate asked.

  “She married Mr. Abbott when she was eighteen and he was several years older. He was her favorite and left her a rich woman. She never mentioned the name of husband two. They were married a couple of years and, according to Bertie, he had a heart attack doing the big one. He, too, left her quite a bit of money. Don’t know anything about husband three.”

  “Deceased husband number three was Horace Leland, Thomas Leland’s uncle.” Nate glanced at Preston, with a look that said, Keep your cool. “I’m aware of the incident that took place Saturday night. Kudos on the SING maneuver. What’s your take on the relationship Mrs. Abbott has with Leland?”

  “Bertie’s quite verbal and describes her relatives as a bunch of misfits related through marriage who can’t wait for her to die. She refers to Thom as her pain-in-the-ass nephew. He keeps her monitored with one of the ‘help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’ buttons. During one of our bingo sessions, she mentioned Spring Meadow was the best assisted living center she’d ever been in, so I take it she’s been shuffled around quite a lot. She comes off as being strong-willed, and as I said, speaks her own mind, but deep down she’s afraid of him. I overheard her talking to her friends Muriel and Sadie about having second thoughts giving her nephew power of attorney. At the time, I wasn’t aware she was talking about Thomas Leland. At the party the other night, she spoke to Margaret Taylor about making changes in her will. How about answering my first question. Why are you looking into Bertie’s financial background?”

  Preston took Cindi’s hand and gave it a loving squeeze. “I’ve worked on cases that involved the complexity and sophistication of money laundering. The dirty money, acquired from illegal means, needs to be cleaned to appear to have been derived from legal activities so banks will deal with it without suspicion. Leland is a first-class bastard. He’s been wiring and transferring the illegitimate funds gained through insider trading and gambling into numerous legal accounts. This makes the dirty money appear clean. All the a
ccounts have been set up in Bertie’s name.”

  Cindi’s eyes darted to the FBI agent. “You can’t possibly think she’s agreed to any of this money-laundering stuff. She’s innocent!”

  “Thanks to Preston, we know who is behind everything,” Lincoln interjected. “This case is snowballing, and we’ve tracked it back to some of his father’s activities. That’s why Baylee MacGinnis from our LA office is on her way here. She’s got top-level clearance and will help out before we pass our part of the investigation to the FBI.”

  Nate sat up straighter in his chair and his tired mind got a shot of adrenalin. “What name did you say?”

  “Baylee MacGinnis. She’s fully vested and has been with Adams Security for nine years. Are you familiar with her work?” Lincoln asked.

  “No,” Nate honestly replied. Just every part of her body. Long, spicy red hair matched her Irish temper. When she came, her green eyes mirrored her spirited sensuality. He’d made his choice and couldn’t dwell on past mistakes. He was about to snare a rat bastard.

  Cindi was too angry to sit, and shoved out of the chair. “He had the nerve to call that sweet old woman a car thief. He’s a lowdown, cheating snake! Bertie isn’t safe.” Cindi stared down all three men before zeroing in on her boss. “We have to get her out of his clutches. You own one of the largest security companies in the country. Put guards on the nursing home.”

  “I’d love to take your suggestion, but we can’t because he hasn’t threatened her in any way.”

  “You are all working to bring him down, but isn’t there something I can do?”

  Preston got up from his chair and put a calming hand around Cindi’s waist. “You can go home and make sure everything is set for our wedding in one hundred fifteen hours.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?”

  “Because you know me so well. I don’t know how long we’re going to work.”

  Cindi reluctantly agreed, and pouted. “I’ll leave a light on.”

  Neither gave mind to the other men, and kissed each other soundly before Cindi left the office.

  Baylee MacGinnis arrived shortly after Cindi went home. Preston had filled his counterpart in on the situation, and she’d worked on her laptop during the flight from California. The team got to a stopping point in their investigation a little after midnight. It started to snow, and they agreed to continue in the morning. Lincoln bid everyone good night, and Preston was alone with the other two. He had the oddest feeling something was going on or not going on between Baylee and Nate. They’d been introduced earlier, worked well together, maintaining their distance at opposite ends of the table. Preston saved the last of the spreadsheet he created and smiled at Baylee.

  “Cindi made reservations at the Last Chance Motel. It’s not the Ritz, but the only place to stay around here, and it’s clean. I’ll drop you off before I head home.”

  Say it. Nate’s conscience exploded in his brain. It’s been over for twelve years. She still wears the same damn perfume. Why is all that gorgeous red hair knotted at the back of her neck? The body he’d explored with his mouth had gotten curvier, sexier. Shit! Be a professional. He spoke directly to Preston. “I’m staying there too, and it would save you a trip, considering the weather.”

  “Would you mind?” Preston was puzzled when Baylee’s California-tanned complexion had paled at his question. What was going on between these two?

  It’s been over for twelve years. Why is he limping? His hair is too neat, too dignified. What happened to the ID bracelet she’d given him for his twenty-second birthday? Could she get close and not touch him? Be a professional. Preston was waiting for an answer. “Sure, why not.” Baylee hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. The memory of having your love thrown back in your face was something she’d never forgotten.

  Preston walked up the stairs to the loft apartment, telling himself he should pay more attention to weather reports. If he’d known about the snow, he would have taken his new four-wheel-drive SUV. He walked into the bedroom, shadowed by the nightlight in the adjoining bath, and almost tripped over Cheesecake. The donkey was sprawled on the floor in front of the footboard. Donut was on the bed with his head brushing Cindi’s arm. How did they know she needed protection?

  Preston carefully lifted Donut and set him on the floor. “Thanks, guys, for keeping her safe,” he said quietly before shedding his clothes and prosthesis.

  The bed shifted slightly and a cold foot moved up and down Cindi’s thigh. A hard, naked body spooned her back and an arm slipped around her waist and hugged her body close. He was also fully aroused.

  “You’re cold,” Cindi murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. His flesh reflected a wintry night, but her body heat was on the rise from the hot breath that swept her neck.

  “You probably haven’t looked out the window. It’s snowing. That’s why I need your body to warm me up.” His lips found the curve of her shoulder, while his hand cupped a tender breast.

  “Are you finished?” she said when his fingers tugged and coaxed her nipple to gem hardness. She loved what he was doing, and pressed her cheeks against his groin in invitation.

  His teeth tenderly nipped her shoulder bone to taste her sweetness. She smelled like lavender vanilla. “Not by a long shot.” He lifted her leg and draped it over his hip. “Hold on, my love,” he rasped, and slid home.

  The next two days were a repeat of Monday’s intense investigation. Along with doing her job, she double-checked on the arrangements for the wedding. Everything was a go as planned. She’d spoken to Preston’s parents. They would arrive at the campground this evening. Jennie had joined her for dinner Tuesday evening. Her plans were to move permanently to Laurel Heights in February.

  A dark cloud seemed to be following her around. At lunch, she spilled tomato soup on her dress, and she ran across to her favorite boutique in the train station to get another outfit. The navy chino-like slacks and blue and white long-sleeve knit top were on sale.

  She’d just gotten back to her desk when the judge called Cindi’s cell.

  “Hi, Margaret, this is a surprise.”

  “Are you all set for Saturday?”

  “I am, but I hope the FBI releases Preston by then. I’m not about to cancel our honeymoon because of that lowlife Leland. He’s done enough to screw up our lives. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to charge me with assault for bruising his nuts.”

  “Jessie filled me in on the particulars. They’ll get him. Don’t worry, if Leland does pull some legal crap, we’ll just say you were demonstrating a new technique in self-defense.”

  “Thank God I have you in my corner.”

  “You should teach that maneuver to Muriel, Sadie, and Bertie. Speaking of our friend, have you spoken to Bertie since the party?”

  “No.” Cindi’s heartbeat fired up. “Why?”

  “At the shower, she asked if I would help her change her will, and I suggested she have the social worker contact me on Monday. It’s now Wednesday and I haven’t heard anything. I called Mrs. Lamont, the head of patient services, and she said Bertie never approached her.”

  “She might have been confused from eating all the liquor-filled chocolate bottles. Preston will be putting in another late night, so I’ll head over there after work and talk with her.”

  “Thanks, Cindi. Give her my direct number and tell her to contact me any time. See you Friday night at the church for rehearsal.”

  Cindi put her coat on at five thirty and felt her pocket for her keys, then remembered she’d come into work with Preston in his SUV. Much of the snow had melted off the roadways, but portions were ice covered and she hadn’t wanted to drive Pansy in unsafe conditions. Before going to Preston’s office to get the keys from his coat pocket, she sent him a text. Using your SUV to check on the girls at the nursing home. Lincoln can give you a ride home in the Linc Mobile. Don’t work too late! I love you.

  When she got to Spring Meadow, there was a party going on. Most of the staff and resident
s were in the social activities room listening to a choral group perform traditional carols. She moved throughout the residents, wishing them merry Christmas. Her bridal shower crashers weren’t in sight, and Cindi found that very hard to believe. They never missed an opportunity to socialize. Oscar had taken a seat in the front row, but Willie had maneuvered his wheelchair to the far wall, closest to the table that displayed an assortment of cookies and candy. She squatted down next to his wheelchair. The front of his red tie said Bah, humbug.

  “It ain’t time to play bingo!” he snarled, and put a hand over the napkin in his lap that held an assortment of goodies.

  “No, it’s Wednesday night.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the singers. Willie was hard of hearing, and she spoke directly in his ear. “Have you seen Muriel, Sadie, or Bertie?”

  “Those busybodies are a pain in my ass. Sex! Sex! Sex! That’s all they talk about. The aide keeps chasing Muriel out of men’s rooms. You should see the balloons they have of a man’s privates! Disgraceful, I tell you. And those damn pocketbooks! Why the hell do they insist on carrying around an empty pocketbook?”

  For a man who had no patience for the women, Willie certainly knew quite a lot about what was in their personal living quarters and purses. Be patient, Cindi chided herself. “I understand, but have you seen the girls?”

  “The old bats were here this afternoon when the kids from the middle school put on a talent show. This young girl played the piano real good. Her name was Edith Amanda and she played Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas.’ The floozies moved to the front of the room and introduced themselves as the Lemon Sisters. The little girl played while they sang ‘Sisters,’ from White Christmas. It should have only been two girls, not three. Rosemary Clooney is probably turning over in her grave.” Willie shook his head in disgust. “Their squeaky voices couldn’t hold a tune for shit. I didn’t see them at dinner.” He slapped his knee and laughed out loud. “Maybe they developed laryngitis!”