The Stolen Bride. Jacqueline Diamond

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СКАЧАТЬ clutched the cash box tighter. She wondered if she should make a run for it or if she was just being paranoid.

      She was quite a ways from her car, which sat forlornly near the rim of the lot. Her legs, weary from a day of standing, protested when she lengthened her stride and the heavy cash box weighed her down.

      Surely she was imagining the threat. Yet although there were people not far away—the workmen taking down the rides, a few vendors disassembling their booths—no one paid attention to Erin.

      The van speeded up.

      Erin reversed course back toward the fair. The van swung toward her.

      She hadn’t imagined the threat.

      “Hey!” she shouted toward the workmen, trying to make herself heard over the racket of their equipment. No one looked up.

      A few thousand dollars wasn’t worth getting killed for. At least, she hoped the driver was a thief and not some crazed stalker. Although it infuriated her, Erin set the cash box on the pavement and forced her stiff legs into a trot.

      The van veered to follow her.

      The driver either hadn’t noticed that the receipts were sitting on the blacktop or he didn’t want them. Disbelief mingled with panic. This couldn’t be happening. It was too bizarre. And terrifying.

      Erin ducked past the ropes into the carnival area and broke into a run. But with the booths gone, the blacktop here was also nearly bare.

      The van tore through the ropes.

      Erin put on a burst of speed despite aching lungs. This felt like a nightmare, the kind where she was doomed to fall off a cliff no matter how hard she tried to flee.

      She wasn’t going to give in easily. If the driver grabbed her, she’d fight and scream for all she was worth. But she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

      The ficus sprouting from a nearby planter was too slim to offer protection. There was no time to make a cell phone call, no time to do anything but try to cross a span of pavement that seemed to stretch into infinity.

      Even now, none of the workmen had noticed her. The whole incident, which loomed so large in her mind, had to have transpired in a minute or two.

      Winded, she turned to face the van. Maybe this was some kind of sick game. Maybe the driver just wanted to scare her.

      Glare on the windshield obscured his face. Erin stumbled backward and, at a different angle, the glass cleared.

      She saw who it was. And couldn’t believe it.

      This was no random assault. It was no robbery, either.

      The van shot forward. In a burst of desperation, Erin leaped aside, too late. The bumper caught her hip with an agonizing whack.

      She flew into the air and through a planter, helpless to stop her flight. Time slowed as branches tore at her arms. The perfume of crushed jasmine blossoms filled her senses.

      As if from very far away, she heard one of the workmen shout. Finally, they’d spotted her.

      She had to survive. She had to tell someone what she’d seen. The danger was enormous, not only for her but also for her mother.

      Erin’s shoulder hit the ground and a thousand stars exploded. Then there was only darkness.

      Chapter Two

      “You’re the most beautiful bride I ever saw!” Tina Norris, Erin’s maid of honor, gushed as they studied themselves in the full-length mirror.

      “Thanks. And you look gorgeous in that shade of green,” Erin responded.

      “I guess we’re just a pair of femmes fatales.” Her friend grinned.

      Erin had to admit that her mother’s ivory heirloom wedding gown fit her five-foot-five-inch figure to perfection. Above the scooped neck glittered a diamond choker, and a matching tiara sparkled in her chestnut hair, which was folded into a French twist. Except for the pallor of her skin, the image was smashingly bridelike and yet it seemed to her that it belonged to a stranger.

      A buzzing filled her head and the bridal dressing room at the Sundown Valley Country Club began to spin. With the ceremony less than an hour away, Erin didn’t want to get sick.

      In the six weeks since the accident, her memory had been a complete blank about that day. She’d also been plagued by confusion, anxieties and nightmares, which the doctor attributed to post-traumatic stress.

      Erin pressed her temple. The dizziness ebbed.

      “Do you want to sit down?” Tina asked. “You don’t look well.”

      “It’s not bad,” she said. “Just nerves.”

      She wished the wedding could have waited until she was stronger, but by next month Chet would be caught up in the full swing of his congressional campaign. Even now, he only had time for a short honeymoon in Lake Tahoe. Erin knew she ought to be excited at the prospect of being alone with her groom, since she’d saved her virginity for her wedding night, but in the past few weeks it had become difficult to summon any emotions at all.

      According to Chet, she’d been bubbling with enthusiasm when she called him to accept his proposal. Since her head injury later that day, however, she’d experienced what the doctor called emotional flattening. With her inner compass out of whack, she’d relied on family and friends to guide her.

      Thank goodness Chet had proved a rock-steady source of support. No wonder she’d been so eager to marry him, Erin thought. She didn’t doubt that the happy emotions would come flooding back in time and, meanwhile, it would be a relief to move forward with their lives.

      She was grateful, too, for Tina, her best friend from high school. Tina, now a junior high school life-skills teacher, had come to see Erin after she was transferred to the local hospital. She’d continued to visit during the past month while Erin recuperated at her mother’s home.

      No one from Tustin had visited or accepted the wedding invitation. Erin had been particularly disappointed when Alice reported that Bea had declined.

      Tina broke into her reverie. “How’s your leg? Think you can make it down the aisle without limping?”

      Between her badly bruised hip and the head injury, Erin had been mostly housebound until now. “Probably. If Chet doesn’t step on my feet.”

      “I’m sure he’ll be careful. If he isn’t, I’ll pound him into dust.”

      “Spoken like a true friend!”

      A loud knock startled both women. “Not the photographer again!” Erin didn’t think she could summon one more artificial smile.

      “It’s probably Chet.” He planned to walk Erin down the aisle, since her mother was recovering from yet another bout of bronchitis.

      She’d declined to let her stepfather fulfill that function. Although Lance had been pleasant this past month, Erin couldn’t bring herself to like him. She hadn’t entirely lost touch СКАЧАТЬ