The Wedding Gift Read online

  “This is a surprise. Are you calling to tell me my future wife is having pre-marital jitters? Is everything okay on the farm?”

  “Cupcake and Muffin aren’t happy because the pond is frozen. Donut and Cherry Cheesecake send their love. I’m weaning Brownie off Pound Cake’s tit so it looks like we’ll be milking a cow. Cookie and Crème Puff are going to have chicks and Cookie is constantly cock-a-doodle-doing. I don’t think your future wife is in a good place right now. Can you talk?”

  Preston immediately saved the current data on his laptop. “I said that as a joke. I left her warm and cozy in our bed at five this morning. I’m sitting in one of those fancy internet cafes across the street from the Courthouse. I was supposed to testify this afternoon, but I have my doubts. This may take longer than a day or two so I might as well do some work. What the hell happened?”

  Samantha turned the heater on low. “I stopped by to see Cindi at the office. Now don’t go ballistic, but Thomas Leland sent Cindi purple roses, her favorite, with an apology plus an invitation to lunch.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch! I warned him off the other night, but he’s too stupid to take the hint!”

  “If it will make you feel better, Cindi was also pissed. She’ll probably tell you herself.” This would not be a good time for Cindi to start keeping secrets from her future husband Samantha, silently determined, before continuing. “I don’t like or trust him. I’m pretty sure he bought off two members of a jury on a big case I worked undercover. He’s a sleazy lawyer.”

  “I remembered that name, but it involved Thomas Leland, Sr. When I worked for Marsden Consulting, I was given a case without names because the client was high profile and this was a special job for the IRS and the FBI. It involved a Ponzi scheme and money laundering. I didn’t get the full details about the case until arrests were made. Based on my proof, Leland senior went to prison along with a few others.”

  “I just had a scary thought. Do you think Leland knows you were responsible for sending his father to prison? Could he be going after Cindi as a way to get at you?”

  “How could he possibly make the connection so quickly? I only met him Saturday night. I’ll kill him if he lays a hand on her.”

  “If I were you, I’d start digging into Thomas Leland. In my opinion, he’s as dirty as his father.”

  “Before your phone call, I’d already decided to look into him and his company. Don’t worry. It won’t be anything to get me arrested. I’ve got back doors only I know about.” Preston didn’t bother to hide the frustration and worry in his voice. “I really need to get home to Cindi, but I have to stay in Denver to testify. What I have to say can either make or break this case.”

  “We have no proof he is using Cindi against you or that he’s doing anything wrong. If we told her what we suspect, she would get more upset and possibly not believe us. Cindi is sweet and innocent and only looks for the good in people. She shouldn’t be alone for a minute. My undercover assignment at the trucking company is at a standstill, so I’ll call in sick the next two nights. Then I’m off for the weekend. Work will keep Cindi busy and there are security cameras everywhere. I’ll suggest she sleep in her old room in the house till you come home. There are a couple people I can enlist to keep her occupied in the evenings.”

  “I’ll be calling and sending texts during the day. I can also track her location on my phone.” Preston’s hand itched to pick up his coffee cup and fling it across the café. “I feel so goddamn helpless! I could strangle that bastard with my bare hands!”

  “I understand exactly how you feel, but we’ll keep her safe. We don’t even know if this guy is up to no good. It could be something so innocent he wants to renew his friendship with Cindi.”

  “I’ll believe that when pigs fly.”

  “If I see one, I’ll let you know,” Samantha joked. “Seriously, pull some of your magic strings and find out what you can about Leland. To keep this call official, fill Lincoln in on what is going on, but make sure you tell him not to say anything to Cindi Pearl.”

  “I’ll call him tonight at home. For now, keep Cindi out of the loop and protect her until I get home.”

  “Count on it.”

  The moment Preston ended the call with Samantha, he cursed Leland’s soul, accessed a special URL, and typed in Thomas Leland, Jr. He already had the bastard’s social security number.

  Cindi missed Preston like crazy, and was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to get home until Friday. The prosecution felt their case was cut and dry, but the client’s defense team kept objecting, causing unnecessary delays. It wasn’t something Preston hadn’t been through before, and he actually enjoyed making the defense team look like inept boobs. She looked forward to every text or email that he sent, and their nighttime phone calls should have been censored. She couldn’t bring herself to mention the flowers and other gifts that were delivered to her office.

  Tuesday, a box of Godiva chocolates and a DVD of her favorite movie, A Walk to Remember, was delivered by special messenger. A dinner invitation was also enclosed.

  Wednesday, a stuffed purple elephant. Their senior class trip was to Kennywood Park in West Mifflin. He’d won a purple elephant in the shooting gallery. The invitation was for breakfast.

  It was Thursday and she still hadn’t told Preston about the gifts. Today’s token of affection was the most sentimental. It was a photo of them, standing close together under a flower covered arch, looking moony-eyed at each other. He looked handsome in a black tuxedo and she appeared virginal in her lovely white lace dress with pale orchid underskirt that matched the narrow ribbon around her waist. She was holding up a delicate purple rose up for him to smell the sweet fragrance. The invitation was for brunch.

  She felt miserable. Her guilty conscience was like a ball and chain around her neck, choking her. It wasn’t something that should be discussed over the phone. No matter what, Friday night she would confess all. After lots of welcome home kisses, they would go to their house and use the Jacuzzi. When they were sated from really hot sex, she’d casually mention the gifts. That’s where the plan ended. On top of worrying about the fallout from her confession, her friends deemed it necessary to keep her busy every night after work.

  Tuesday, their king-size sleigh bed had been delivered, and she’d spent the evening making up the room, with Sallie Mae’s help. The owner of the Spoonful Café had called that afternoon asking to spend some time together before Cindi became Mrs. Preston Reynolds. Sallie brought dinner and dessert.

  On Wednesday, Cindi got a call from Margaret Taylor, the mayor and a very good friend, inviting her to dinner at the Laurel Bistro. Edith Amanda, Margaret’s granddaughter, was going to be a flower girl in the wedding. Margaret was also doing a reading at the wedding ceremony.

  Now it was Thursday and Cindi was really looking forward to spending this evening alone. She’d been going nonstop and hadn’t given any thought to what she’d pack for her honeymoon. Preston had planned the trip. She’d need her passport and very little clothing.

  Before leaving the building, she signed out, according to procedure, and wished the security guards good evening. She paused to admire the huge Christmas tree in the center of the lobby. A ring of red and white poinsettia plants circled the base of the blue spruce. This was their first Christmas in Laurel Heights, and she wanted to do something special for underprivileged children. The ornaments were red felt stockings, and each one contained the name of a child who would receive a gift a week before Christmas. Lincoln had agreed with her suggestion that the party be held in their employee cafeteria. Santa would be putting in an appearance.

  She pulled out of the parking lot and switched on her high-beams. Lincoln’s complex was surrounded by tall security lights, but streetlights were minimal down the winding road. She had to be ever-watchful for the night creatures mesmerized by the headlights on Pansy. She’d just started to sing “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” when her cell phone rang. Hoping it was Preston, she immediately picked
it up and frowned at the caller readout: “restricted.”

  Against her better judgment, she pressed the hands-free speaker button on her phone and took the call.

  “You are a hard woman to impress, Cindi Pearl. I really expected you to accept one of my invitations.”

  The low, persuasive voice stabbed her like a knife, but she tried to act unaffected. “You really don’t know me. I’ll fall back on my manners and say thank you for your gifts. How did you get my cell number?”

  “I have my ways. When a woman plays hard to get, it makes the man work harder to impress her.”

  Cindi slowed when a pair of eerie glowing eyes shone on the side of the road. As suspected, it was a deer, and she waited until it crossed the road. “Thom, your gifts were well thought out, but I’m engaged to be married. Did you think coming back after all these years would make my heart go pitter-patter and we would take up where we left off? Oh, that’s right, you dumped me.”

  His reply was preceded by a very deep sigh. “That is something I will regret for the rest of my life.”

  “If my hands weren’t on the steering wheel, I’d whip out a violin and play a song to go with your whiny bullshit.”

  “Cindi Pearl, a few women have told me to go to hell, but you get the prize in the insult department. I was expecting a call from your fiancée, telling me to back off. Maybe he doesn’t care if I move into his territory. And don’t say he doesn’t have my number. He’s a forensic accountant who could probably come up with the direct number for the Pope.”

  She’d been having fun with him, but now she was flushed with rage. “Don’t even go there! Preston has nothing to do with this. You are my past and he is my future.”

  “We'll see, we’ll see. So when can I take you to dinner?”

  “When Frosty the Snowman vacations in the Sahara Desert.” Cindi ended the call and tossed her phone on the opposite seat. “Asshole!”

  She pulled down the driveway and spotted Suzie Q’s delivery van. “No more company,” she said, groaning. She wanted to go upstairs to her room and brood. She wanted Preston. He would be calling soon, and she would have to act normal. Now she had to add the phone call to her confess-all list. Shouldn’t she be suffering from bridal jitters with the wedding only a week away? When the hell did she have to think about how her life was going to change? She’d be a married woman. Mrs. Preston Reynolds. She’d never wanted anything more in her life.

  Samantha and the florist were sitting at the table. The scent of cinnamon lingered in the country kitchen decorated in shades of blue and white. An antique hutch displayed Samantha’s love of china teapots, cups, and saucers. She’d been collecting them since she was a teenager. In the center of the oak table was a small oval platter with freshly made scones. Next to the golden triangles laced with a sugar-crystal coating were two small china bowls containing clotted cream and raspberry preserves. Samantha was pouring tea from a delicate teapot into their china cups decorated with tiny pink rosebuds.

  “Just who I’ve been waiting for,” Suzie said, wiping her mouth with a lace-edged napkin. “I know it’s well past teatime, but I’ll eat Samantha’s scones anytime I can get them.”

  “Sit. I’ll pour you a cup,” Sam said, and placed a plate, cup, and saucer in front of Cindi. “We can have something more substantial when we get back.”

  “Are we going someplace?” Cindi sat at the table and added two lumps of sugar and a little cream to her tea.

  “You have a very generous friend.” Suzie helped herself to a second scone and a little more clotted cream and jam. “First he pays double for purple roses and then he orders twenty-five large poinsettia plants to be delivered to the Spring Meadow center with the stipulation that it be done before their holiday party, which happens to be tomorrow evening. How do you know Thomas Leland?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to call him her former trouble-making boyfriend, but that would require a long, drawn-out explanation. “He’s a guy I know from high school.”

  “He knew you loved purple roses and how much you enjoy working with the residents at Spring Meadow. I stopped by, hoping you can lend me a hand. I have to get them delivered tonight because I need my van for all the deliveries we have tomorrow. My husband normally helps me, but he is playing Santa Claus at the Christmas party for the women’s auxiliary and vestry of Trinity Church.”

  She couldn’t refuse Suzie. Brooding could wait. “Let me go upstairs and change out of my dress. Give me five minutes.”

  “Finish your tea and scones,” Samantha said. “I’m going with you, and we can get the job done faster. We’ll follow Suzie in my Jeep.”

  “Do a good deed for a friend in need,” Cindi muttered on her way upstairs to change into a pair of jeans and a sweater. She’d also wear her new UGG boots. It suddenly dawned upon Cindi why her friends had made sure all of her evenings this week were occupied. They knew she would be lonely without Preston. That was what friends did: stepped up to the plate to help each other out. It warmed her heart to realize that they were the ones doing a good deed for a friend in need.

  Preston packed the last of his clothes in his suitcase. He was going home tomorrow. Being without Cindi was like losing another part of himself. It was an alien feeling he hoped to never suffer again. He’d lost a part of his body, but this was different. She completed him, made him whole. He missed her snuggling up to him in bed, massaging the stub on his knee when he’d done too much during the day. She woke with a smile and said, “I love you.” Most times they shared their morning shower. It was a good thing Lincoln understood when they got to work late.

  The only good part of the week was that the prosecution had won their case. It had started snowing earlier in the afternoon, and he was hesitant to accept the district attorney’s invitation to go out to dinner to celebrate his team’s victory, but as an employee of Adams Security and Investigation, he made nice with their clients. The moment he got back to his room, he called Lincoln to update him on the case, but was eager to know what was happening with his future wife. The Cindi patrol had kept her well occupied the past week, but Lincoln felt disloyal betraying Cindi when he told Preston about the gifts that had arrived at the office.

  Each day her depression deepened, and Lincoln surmised it was guilt dragging her down. He’d asked if she needed to vent, and suggested Cindi talk to his wife Jessie, but she said it was something she had to handle herself.

  It pained Preston to know his love was going through such torment because of Thomas Leland. Knowing the way Cindi thought, she was worried he doubted her loyalty to him and she’d encouraged attention from the bastard. The thought never entered Preston’s mind. He wished she had told him about the gifts herself. Confronting her over the phone wasn’t the right way to address the situation. He’d already devised a plan. They would share a few welcome-home kisses, go to their house, and make use of the Jacuzzi tub. After some very hot loving, he would get her to talk about her hellish week.

  He called Cindi’s cell and was disappointed she didn’t pick up, but left a message: “I love you and can’t wait to hold you in my arms. When I get home, I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.”

  He set the alarm on his phone for five o’clock and stretched out on the bed fully clothed. He’d showered earlier and wasn’t about to waste time in the morning. All he wanted to do I get out of there and home to Cindi. The car service was scheduled to pick him up at five thirty for a seven-thirty flight. He fell asleep and was startled by the alert on his phone with an incoming text message.

  Half awake, he swung his legs off the bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and reached for his glasses before reading the message. Flight 501 to Pittsburgh cancelled. “Well, shit!” He stood up and read the message again on his way to look out the window that overlooked the main drag. The wind made the snowflakes dance in a whirling dervish, catching the ribbons of light streaming from the light poles in the parking lot. Any other time, he appreciated the beautiful sight. He looked at the m
ain drag, and it appeared the plows had been out during the night doing their job. But a street was not a runway. He called the airlines to get an update, but got a recorded message to check back periodically about rescheduled flights. Information was available on their website.

  He paced in frustration. “I am not staying here!” His anxiety increased when he checked the flights for other airlines. They too were cancelled. He checked the time again, calculating the time difference on the East Coast. Cindi would be up and getting ready for work. He debated calling and giving her the bad news about his flight. Rather than get her upset, he sent a text saying his flight would be delayed due to weather. He would send her a text with a new takeoff time.

  “I need coffee.” The room came with a personal coffee maker, but he needed the real stuff. He reached into his pocket to make sure he had his room key, wallet, and identification. “Identification! Preston, get your ass in gear.” He never went anywhere without his military ID. There was another way to get home.

  He reached for his cell phone, not bothering to check the time, and punched in a familiar number. He’d been friends with Steve Pacifico since his last tour in Afghanistan. Preston smiled when a groggy voice answered the phone.

  “You better be in deep shit waking me at this godforsaken hour.”

  “It’s six o’clock in the morning and you don’t need any more beauty sleep. Don’t you have to be on duty at eight?”

  “Yes, but I’m a captain and can be a few minutes late. What can I do for the man who saved my life? Are you sure I can’t talk you into re-enlisting? I can get you stationed at Buckley Air Force Base with me.”

  “I’m not that desperate. I need you to get me the hell out of here. My flight has been cancelled because of the snowstorm, and I have to get home. When we had dinner the other night, I never told you about the bastard who is going after my fiancée.”

  “Say no more. Let me make a phone call and check to see if any military transports are going out.”