Colton Copycat Killer. Marie Ferrarella
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Название: Colton Copycat Killer
Автор: Marie Ferrarella
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
Серия: Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense
isbn: 9781474040037
isbn:
Since Zoe had dropped her hand from her shoulder, she turned away from her sister and went back to adjusting her veil and dress.
“I really do make a beautiful bride,” Celia complimented her reflection with feeling.
“You can’t get married to Sam under that pretext,” Zoe cried, staring at her in disbelief. “You have to tell him the truth.”
“No, I don’t.” And then Celia looked at her in the mirror, her face almost contorted with anger. “Oh, stop carrying on like this. After all, it’s not like Sam believes in love or marriage or even the almighty institution of family.” She paused to put another layer of lipstick on. “So marrying a woman he doesn’t love isn’t such a big deal.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Zoe asked incredulously. This had to be the lowest thing her sister had ever done, tricking someone into marrying her. “Marrying someone who isn’t in love with you? You’re really okay with that?”
Celia’s temper was just about at its end. “Of course I’m okay with that. Do you know how rich those Coltons are?”
“I don’t care if they’re richer then God,” Zoe exclaimed. “You can’t go through with this, Celia. It’s not right,” she insisted.
Celia tossed her head in that way of hers, the way that emulated queens ruling over small kingdoms.
“It’s more than ‘right,’ it’s perfect,” she countered, completely pleased with what she had brought about. “Now stop lecturing me like some dried-up old spinster with a house full of cats and get ready for the biggest bash this town has seen, bar none.”
Zoe pressed a hand against her stomach, which was suddenly twisting itself into a tight knot. She felt sick to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t be a party to something like this.
Celia, Zoe noted, had gone back into her own little world. Having eyes only for the image she beheld in the mirror and once again humming a tuneless “Here Comes the Bride,” Celia didn’t even seem to hear her slip out of the room.
Her stomach twisted harder, threatening to make her throw up. She had to find Sam, find him and tell him what Celia had just confessed to her. Sam couldn’t be allowed to go through with the ceremony. He’d be marrying Celia under false pretenses.
He’d be—
She came to an abrupt halt mentally. The thought of telling him about this elaborate scheme of her sister’s made her feel even sicker. Moreover, if she went through with it, it would easily brand her as a snitch. She was the blameless one here, but that wouldn’t be the way Sam would see it.
She had to try one last time to get Celia to call off the ceremony and tell Sam why on her own.
Squaring her shoulders, Zoe closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her courage together. She’d always just gone along with everything before, but this was the proverbial straw. It was just too much. She couldn’t allow this wedding to take place.
Though she dreaded butting heads with Celia, that was exactly what she was going to have to do.
Eyes opened again, Zoe marched back down the hallway to the bridal room. Knocking once, she didn’t wait for an invitation to enter.
Instead, she threw open the door, took one step into the room—
And started screaming.
Zoe didn’t remember screaming.
Didn’t remember pursing her lips or emitting the loud, piercing sound less than a heartbeat after she’d opened the door.
Didn’t remember crossing over the threshold into the room, or bending over Celia, who was lying faceup on the floor.
The exquisite wedding dress her sister had taken such all-consuming delight in finding was now ruined. There were two glaring gunshot holes in her chest and her blood had soaked into the delicate white appliqué, all but drenching it. The pattern beneath it was completely obliterated.
The whole scene, which was whizzing by and moving in painfully slow motion at the same time, seemed totally surreal to Zoe, like some sort of an ill-conceived, macabre scene being played out from an old-fashioned B-grade horror movie about a rampaging slasher.
And if the dreadfulness of all this wasn’t enough, someone—the killer?—had gone on to draw a bizarre red bull’s-eye on Celia’s forehead. There was a single dot inside the circle, just off center, and whoever had drawn it had used some sort of a laundry marker, so the bull’s-eye stood out even more than it normally might have.
This can’t be real, it just can’t be real.
The desperate thought throbbed over and over again in Zoe’s head. She’d just left Celia, what, a couple of minutes ago? Five minutes, tops?
How could all this have happened in such a short period of time?
Who could have done this to her sister?
Why hadn’t she heard the gunshots when they were fired?
And for God’s sake, what was that awful noise she was hearing now?
Zoe tried to see where it was coming from, but for some reason, she just couldn’t seem to turn her head.
She couldn’t even move.
The noise was surrounding her. It sounded like wailing, or, more specifically, like keening. It approximated the sound that was heard when someone’s heart was breaking.
Zoe had no idea the noise she was attempting to place was coming from her.
* * *
“You realize this is probably going to be the happiest day of your life, you lucky son of a gun.” The declaration, uttered by one of the men waiting to be ushered down an aisle and into a pew, was directed at the bridegroom. “It’s all downhill from here,” the older man chuckled.
Detective Sam Colton kept the half smile he had been sporting for the past half hour pasted on his handsome, tanned face and merely nodded.
Words were not his strong suit and he couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that, other than the fact that if this was to be the happiest day of his life, it certainly didn’t put the bar up very high.
And as for it being “downhill from here,” well, he already knew that.
He was marrying Celia Robison, who some of the other detectives on the force had made very clear they regarded as being quite an eyeful, as well as a number of other clichéd descriptions.
None of that had entered into the reason why he was standing here, waiting for everyone to take their seats so the ceremony could begin. Waiting for all this to be over with.
He was marrying the woman for one reason and one reason only.
She was having СКАЧАТЬ