The Wedding Gift Read online

  This wasn’t getting Cindi anywhere. “Okay, I’ll check their rooms.”

  Cindi skirted wheelchairs, electric scooters, and armchairs, and hurried through the full-care section to the assisted living wing, where the residents were considered self-sufficient. Muriel and Sadie’s private rooms were side by side. An artificial wreath with red ornaments and a felt bow was displayed on the front of Sadie’s door. Cindi knocked and was surprised to find the door unlocked. She pushed the door open to discover a totally dark room. “Okay, one down.”

  A long felt stocking in shocking pink hung on Muriel’s door with the words Merry Hunkmass. Below the words was a picture of three naked guys wearing Santa hats, sexy red pistol bikinis, and big smiles. She knocked and a voice yelled, “Enter at your own risk.” Two of the Lemon Sisters were sitting in overstuffed armchairs separated by a round table that displayed a white artificial Christmas tree decorated in pink lights and ornaments of the same color. Soggy tissues were piled where the presents would have been on display. It was obvious they’ve been crying for quite some time.

  Cindi rushed into the room. “What happened?”

  “They took her!” Muriel cried and blew her nose into a pink tissue. “Our third Lemon Sister.”

  “That good-for-nothing pissant nephew took her to a new facility,” Sadie said, blubbering.

  Cindi plopped on the edge of a bed covered in a pink chenille spread. An assortment of throw pillows in shades of pink and white decorated the bed. “When did all this happen?”

  “We went back to our rooms after our debut performance as the Lemon Sisters. We’ve been practicing. Everyone loved the Lemon Sisters.” Sadie cried. “Two men from one of those private ambulance companies were in the hall outside Bertie’s room. They said she was being transferred.”

  “She got real upset and said that wasn’t right,” Muriel said. “This was her home and we were her sisters! These big, burly guys showed us the paperwork. I told them they ain’t taking her anyplace until I checked with the office. I zoomed down to the nurses’ station like I was driving in one of those Indy 500 races.

  “Marla, the nursing supervisor, offered to check the computer for me. She’s real nice and treats everyone so wonderful. She said everything was in order and Bertie’s nephew had made the arrangements. Marla was sorry to see Bertie leave. They went into her room, and a few minutes later came out with Bertie in one of them transport chairs, and they’d given her something to knock her out. We asked about her personal belongings, and they said she wouldn’t need any where she was going.”

  Cindi’s instincts had been right, but their hands had been legally tied. “Did you happen to notice the name of the ambulance service?”

  Sadie thought a moment and her eyes flew open. “The name on their jackets said Inter-County Medical Transport Services.”

  “That’s a start. Hopefully we can find out where they took her,” Cindi said. She knew someone who could hack into their computers.

  “I know. That’s the first thing I looked for when the guy showed us the paperwork.” Muriel reached for her purse, withdrew a new pink tissue, and blew her nose. “It’s Summer Glen Rest Home, but it’s in West Virginia.”

  Excitement was building in Cindi’s body. “Now we’re getting someplace. And who says old people don’t have sharp minds!” She kissed each of the women on their cheeks as an idea came to mind. “Did they lock her room when they left?”

  “Don’t know. Her room is two doors down. Let’s go.” Sadie was the first one to reach the door.

  The three women hurried to Bertie’s room, but Cindi’s hope faded quickly when they discovered the locked door. “That kills my idea.”

  “Honey, you don’t watch enough TV.” Muriel reached into the side pouch of her scooter, pulled out a pick-like tool, and slipped it into the key slot on Bertie’s door like a seasoned burglar. “How do you think I get into the men’s rooms at night?”

  For a woman who had lived in the space for six months, there were very few personal belongings. Essential clothes still hung in the closet and they’d left her toiletries from the adjoining bathroom. The only sentimental evidence Bertie had lived in the room was a photo on the nightstand of her in a lace and silk wedding gown with a gentleman in front of a cathedral. She looked to be about eighteen and was smiling happily in the arms of a handsome man in a tuxedo, circa the 1930s. This had to be Mr. Abbott. How cruel to have left behind the picture of Bertie and her one true love.

  Cindi looked around a little more at the impersonal room and turned to the other women.

  “It isn’t here.”

  “What isn’t here?” Muriel asked.

  “Her pin with the GPS tracking device that Leland made her wear.”

  “Well, the heartless bastard knows where they’ve taken her!” Sadie’s voice was full of impatience.

  “I need to make a phone call.” Cindi prayed she wasn’t blowing smoke and raising all their hopes. She hugged each of the women. “I am going to find Bertie and bring her back here where she belongs.”

  “Wait! You are not going alone!” Muriel alighted from her scooter chair and approached Cindi with a slow but steady gait. “I already know what you are going to say: ‘No, we’re too old, we could get hurt, and this is a job for the authorities.’” She raised a brow exaggerated by black eyeliner. ‘I’ve missed a few, but you get what I mean.”

  Sadie also got up from her chair and added her own pleading argument. She reached out with both hands and took hold of Cindi’s wrists. “She is our very dear friend and there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do to get her back. I—no…” She paused and gave Muriel a tearful smile before continuing. “We beseech you, Cindi Pearl. Bertie is our sister.”

  Aged, tear-stained faces appealed to Cindi’s motto. Every instinct said this was an extremely bad idea, but she didn’t have time to waste trying to think up an excuse for them not to come. She’d drop them off at Samantha’s.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. You can come, but we’ll do this according to procedure. You will both sign out for the evening, in my company. Get your coats. Can you walk as far at the parking lot?”

  “Of course! We just use these things to get around,” Sadie said, going to the walk-in closet for her coat and oversize purse that held her wool and knitting needles.

  Cindi didn’t bother to speak to the guard or anyone at the center about Bertie being taken against her will. They’d signed off on the paperwork and probably wouldn’t believe her.

  After signing the women out in her company, they slowly headed for the SUV. Cindi uttered a few uncomplimentary words toward Mother Nature. The temperature had risen, and the melting snow created a thick fog, making the driving difficult as well as hazardous. She needed to make time, but that wasn’t about to happen. Her fellow passengers didn’t seem to mind the precarious driving conditions. In between bad-mouthing Thomas Leland and sending his soul to the devil, Muriel and Sadie sang Christmas carols. Willie had been right. These ladies were adorable, but their voices left a lot to be desired.

  She turned on the fog lights and put a call into Preston to let him know she was on her way home. He didn’t pick up, so she left a message. “Leland had Bertie transferred to Summer Glen Rest Home in West Virginia against her will. The transport company was Inter-County Medical Transport Services. This just turned into a matter of life and death. Call me back ASAP.”

  The fog lights helped a little, but she was so busy concentrating on the road up ahead that she was unaware of the truck that approached her from the rear without headlights. The first slam on her rear bumper jolted Cindi to attention. Two voices from the rear seat chorused in alarm before bad-mouthing the blind driver of the other car. The second assault was twice as hard, and she lost control of the steering wheel. Her head flew forward and it was lights out.

  Chapter 12

  Preston placed his glasses on the table and rubbed his tired eyes. He’d just finished the most intense investigation he’d ever worked. Thomas
Leland was cooked, stewed, skewered, and dead in the water. Everything was now in the hands of the FBI. Nate Haines had thanked everyone before he left to get a flight back to Washington. Lincoln had one of their security guards take Baylee to the airport to fly home on the company jet. Preston never did find out what was going on between them. Baylee’s eyes had watered when Nate walked out.

  They were alone in Lincoln’s office and he was talking to Jessie on his cell phone. It was so quiet that Preston could hear the one-sided conversation. “Santa’s going to give you an early Christmas present. See you in a little while. I love you.” Preston couldn’t help but smile. He’d known Lincoln since they served together in the Army Rangers, and had never seen him happier.

  The love of a woman had also brought Preston the greatest happiness he’d ever known. His stomach growled, a reminder they hadn’t stopped for dinner and it was now after eight. He’d be happy with a few of his future wife’s delicious kisses and then food, in that order. After all the hard work he’d put in the past three days, Lincoln gave him the rest of the week off, so technically he and Cindi were now on vacation. They were leaving Sunday for a ten-day honeymoon. He’d asked what places she wanted to visit, and she said Australia and Hawaii. He saw right through her reply, since those places had some of the best surfing. They would return Christmas Eve to spend the holiday with their families. He couldn’t wait to give her the special wedding gift he had made.

  He took his cell phone out of his pocket to view his messages. He’d checked them two hours ago and hadn’t been happy Cindi was going to the assisted living center. Being alone made her vulnerable. One message was from his father saying they had arrived safe and sound at the campground and would get together tomorrow. His hand trembled when he listened to Cindi’s latest message and immediately hit number one on speed dial.

  “Come on, Cindi Pearl, pick up, goddamnit!” It rang and rang then invited him to leave a message. Normally he found much humor in the message she’d recorded using her ditzy blond impersonation, but now it left him in cold terror. Seconds later, he called again and it went to message. “Shit!” He shoved away from the conference table and approached Lincoln’s desk. “We have a problem. Cindi’s not picking up her cell. Listen to her message.”

  Lincoln’s tired mind and body shifted into work mode at the words, life and death situation. “Let’s not panic. What vehicle was she driving?”

  “My SUV with the special GPS tracking device you had installed. I can also track her location on my phone, but she’s not picking up. I wish she hadn’t argued against a personal tracking device.” His voice was filled with the inner terror he was suffering. “Something is very wrong. I can feel it.”

  “I’d like to pat you on the back and say there, there and tell you it’s nothing, but I’d be blowing smoke. After what we just discovered about Thomas Leland, I wouldn’t put anything past him. Let me call downstairs to our tracking center to get a location on the car.”

  “While you do that, I’m going to try her cell a couple more times.” Preston’s frustration escalated when he was unable to get Cindi’s location on his cell phone.

  “Okay, thanks,” Lincoln said, ending his call. “Your SUV is approximately three miles from Samantha’s house on County Road five nineteen, just past Apple Farm Lane.” Lincoln grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “Let’s go. I’ll call Jessie and she’ll have a car meet us. We’ll take my truck.”

  Being familiar with the area, since he grew up in Laurel Heights, Lincoln took a shortcut through one of the state forests before meeting up with the two-lane country road. Muttered curses filled the interior at the lingering clouds of fog that shrouded the visibility. A wind kicked up and the puffs danced in front of the yellow fog lights.

  “Can’t you make this bucket of bolts move any faster, goddamnit!” Preston’s fist of steel came down in frustration on the dash in front of him.

  “I don’t let too many people slam the Linc Mobile. This baby may be fifteen years old, but she’s got more power under the hood than that fancy James Bond wannabe car you drive. I’d push the nitrous oxide button to give us an extra shot of speed, but not with the sporadic visibility.”

  “I apologize for insulting your truck. Just get us there in one piece.” Emotions, the likes of which he’d never suffered, were stabbing at his heart. “I now understand what the expression ‘love hurts’ means. When I lost part of my leg, I wished for death from the pain, the loss, facing life without a part of myself, but this is worse. I’ve had everything a man could possibly want these past few months and I can’t contemplate what my life would be like without her.” Preston took his eyes off the road. “How do you handle being married to a cop?”

  “It’s terrifying, but it helps she is higher up in rank and spends more time at headquarters than on the road. She never leaves the house without a kiss, a tap on the brim of her cap, and I say, ‘Be careful out there.’ I also tell her how much I love her.”

  “I’ve been scared before, but never like this.”

  “I know exactly what you are going through. Seven months ago, shortly before you moved to Laurel Heights, I died a thousand deaths watching and waiting while Jessie walked into a life-threatening situation to save Edie, Susan, and Victoria from the hands of a killer.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “That is exactly what the killer got. Shit on by two ducks. Ask Samantha to tell you how Cupcake and Muffin saved the day. You can’t say we don’t live interesting lives.” Lincoln glanced at the computer screen built into his dash that displayed the map of their location. “We’re getting close, about another mile.”

  “I’ll kill him if he so much as harmed a hair on her head.”

  “We don’t know that he has her.” Every instinct in Lincoln’s body said he’d just given his friend false hope.

  The pressure on Preston’s chest made it difficult to breathe when they pulled up in back of his cream-colored SUV. The bumper and taillights on the driver’s side had been smashed, and a deep impression had been made in the tail gate. The sturdy trunk of an oak tree had stopped the vehicle, but it appeared the damage was minimal because of the deer guard he’d added to the front.

  Preston was out of the truck before it came to a full stop. The interior lights were on, and the engine was still running. The driver’s door was open, and his heart almost stopped at the sight of the empty driver’s seat. Cindi’s purse was on the passenger seat, along with her smashed cell phone. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was playing on the radio. He never took his eyes off the white envelope that stood out boldly on the black leather interior and didn’t turn to acknowledge Lincoln’s presence.

  “I already know you are going to say don’t touch anything, but to hell with procedure. I have to find out what’s in that envelope. I already know who it’s from.”

  “Go for it. I sent Jessie our location. She’s on her way, along with another radio car.” Lincoln was scared. Over the years he’d dealt with sick individuals, but this was personal. He made a vow that come hell or high water, Saturday he would be standing beside Preston and Cindi while they said their vows.

  The interior lights were bright enough to read the handwritten note in bold black lettering.

  You should have minded your own business. Did you think I wouldn’t find out you have been investigating me? I have friends in high places, the same ones I’ve been protecting. You destroyed my father’s life, so I’m about to destroy yours. It’s all been a game and I’ve won, not the way I intended. The grown-up Cindi Pearl is enchanting, sexy, spunky, and, for now, mine. If you want her back, deposit five million dollars into my account in Antigua. I’m sure you already have the account number. You have till twelve noon, Saturday. Once I confirm the money is in the account, you’ll find her on the steps of Trinity Church. I won’t waste my time telling you not to alert the authorities, because you work for a high-tech security company. I’ve thought of that, too. No form of electronic tracking wil
l work where I’ve hidden Cindi Pearl.

  PS I couldn’t allow Cindi to continue her friendship with Bertie. Don’t bother trying to track my aunt, because I’ve taken care of her, too.

  Preston felt the bulge in the envelope and tipped the gold object into his hand. It was Bertie’s pin with her tracking device. “The bastard is covering all his bases.” They turned when two radio cars pulled up in back of the Linc Mobile.

  Jessie radioed out at the scene before exiting her vehicle, and adjusted the basket-weave belt that secured the holstered Sig Sauer high on her right hip. This was not the belt she’d planned to wear this evening as a surprise for her husband, but her missing friend took precedent over their sex life. Her lieutenant bars stood out on the collar of her white shirt that showed above her black winter jacket. She ached to give Lincoln and Preston comforting hugs, but not in the presence of Officer Lynch. This was now an official investigation.

  “Thanks for coming, Jessie.” Preston passed her the note. “The bastard has Cindi.”

  Jessie’s heart was breaking for Preston, and she knew, firsthand, what he was suffering. The more she read, the angrier she got. “That self-serving son of a bitch! I hated this guy the other night, and more so now. If he hurts Cindi, I’ll string him up myself.”

  “You’ll have to get in line behind me,” Preston said.

  She turned to Officer Lynch. “Notify headquarters to call Paul’s garage for a tow. Also ask dispatch to contact Detective Donnelly and have him call my cell. He’ll take pictures and dust the car for prints after the vehicle is brought into headquarters.”

  “What about the report?”

  Jessie gave the young officer a half-smile. “Consider this an early Christmas present. I’ll write it up because it’s an accident and a kidnapping. You can resume patrol and I’ll wait for the wrecker.”

  When Officer Lynch walked back to his radio car, Jessie turned back to her husband and Preston. “Things just got a lot more complicated. On my way here, I received a call from my mother that is going to double our problem. Marla, the nursing supervisor at the assisted living center and a personal friend, called to see if the judge had a secondary contact number for Cindi. She wanted to know when Muriel and Sadie would be returning to the facility so she could notify the night guard. It seems the ladies left with Cindi in the search of Bertie.”