Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (34 page)

She had to get out of this van. Had to get to Nick. She had to make sure he was unharmed. Had to let him know how much she loved him.

Because she did love him. Loved him so much she could scarcely breathe.

She had loved him from the moment she’d seen him in her vision that evening in Claire Kelley’s consignment shop. She just hadn’t known it then. But there was no denying it. They were fated. He simply could not die.

Please, God,
she prayed.
Please, let my Nicky be okay.

How to get out of here? How to get away from this kidnapping creep? What she needed was a plan.

But she had nothing.

Do what you do best,
Skylar’s voice whispered in the back of her head.

What was that? She wasn’t brave or bold or intrepid. She wasn’t particularly smart or cunning. Most of her life she’d been motivated by the need to live in harmony with those around her. She’d preferred blending in to rocking the boat, to accommodate others and put her own needs on hold.

She had nothing that could help her out of this fix.

You’ve got empathy.
It was Skylar’s voice again.
And you’re patient and nonjudgmental.

Okay, she could do that. Pretend to be on the side of her kidnapper.

Delaney heard sirens wail from somewhere in the distance behind them. Her heart jumped into her throat. Nick!

Do something! Now!

“Whew,” Delaney said as calmly as she could and tentatively raised her gaze to meet the eyes of her kidnapper in the rearview mirror. “Thank heavens we shook him.”

The man behind the wheel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Whaddya mean?”

“The guy in the red pickup was my bodyguard. I’m so glad he’s out of the picture. You have no idea what a pain in the neck it is having your every move monitored.”

“You kiddin’ me? I’ve been in the pen, girlie. You’re the one with no idea what it’s like to have your every move monitored for real.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. You’re right. It’s completely inappropriate for me to compare my pampered life to prison.”

“Damn straight.”

“It’d be really awful if you had to go back there.”

“I’m never going back.”

“Well, you might. Kidnapping is a felony.”

“I ain’t getting caught.”

“You might.”

“I’m not going back to jail,” he said stubbornly.

“I bet it’s hard,” she mused. All the while she was talking to him, Delaney was edging up the floor of the van toward the seat that separated her from the driver. Getting him to talk was one thing, but she needed a better plan. Needed to shake things up, but at the right moment, when it would do her the most good. “Starting all over again after prison. Is that why you turned to kidnapping?”

“Pays better than working at Wal-Mart.”

“What did you do for a living?” she asked. “Besides kidnapping, I mean. Before you went to jail.”

“I’m a barker at the Whack-a-Mole on Galveston Island,” he said proudly.

Ah, now she knew why he looked familiar. Was that how the kidnapping had come about? He’d seen her at the amusement park and recognized her as a Cartwright?

“You like that work?”

“Outside, near the ocean, no boss. What’s not to like?”

Closer, closer. She was just a few inches from the back of his seat, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do once she got there. Her hands were cuffed. It wasn’t like she had a whole lot of options.

She scooted forward. Her veil fell across her face, blurring her vision with a curtain of lace.

And then she knew what to do.

In a soothing voice, she coaxed the driver to talk, while the seconds ticked away and they drove farther and farther from where Nick had crashed his pickup. It took everything she possessed to keep herself from acting immediately. If she was going to be successful in her escape attempt, she had to time things right.

He turned on his blinker and changed lanes. Up ahead lay a freeway ramp. She couldn’t let him get back on the freeway. Her plan would be far too dangerous to execute on the expressway.

The time was now.

She was positioned directly behind the driver. With her cuffed hands she reached over her head, while simultaneously rising up on her knees. Briefly, her eyes met those of her kidnapper in the rearview mirror at the very same moment she flipped the long veil up over his head.

The guy swore, swerved violently. The van shot back across the lane they’d just left.

He batted at her veil.

The van rocked.

Delaney fell back on her butt.

The van bounced hard up onto the curb.

He cut the wheel tight, brought the van down on the road with a solid smack. The jarring impact caused the back door to swing open. Hot air rushed in.

A horn sounded and Delaney looked up in time to see a delivery truck headed straight for them.

She screamed. The kidnapper twisted the steering wheel, sending them careening around a corner and up over a second curb.

Delaney somersaulted across the floor of the van, and the next thing she knew she was free-falling out the door.

Chapter 18

W
hile Delaney was tussling with the kidnapping Whack-a-Mole barker, Nick pumped the foot feed and twisted the key in the ignition. He grunted with relief when the engine fired up again.

He took off after her, not knowing for sure where the van had gone. It might be back up on the freeway by now, completely out of reach. That thought fisted his gut. No, no, he wasn’t that far behind them. He’d only lost a few seconds, maybe a minute, but no longer. He had to believe they were still on this access road.

Resolutely, Nick goosed the ailing pickup and ignored the rattling and groaning noises coming from the rear end. Lalule shook on the dashboard, urging him onward.

He sped over the rise in the road, eyes desperately scanning the area in search of the white van.

Then he saw something that stopped his heart. The van, maybe eight blocks ahead of him, spinning around a corner with the back door flapping open.

In horror, Nick watched as the woman he loved fell out onto the pavement.

Ouch. That was going to leave a bruise. Delaney lay on the ground, breathing hard as she watched the van disappear in a blinding blur around the corner.

She heard the squeal of brakes and the sound of tires sliding in gravel. She felt pebbles pelt her skin. Delaney pushed herself up, winced against abrasions on her palms.

A car door slammed.

She shook her head and the veil fell to one side. She saw someone running toward her.

Nick! He was all right!

Delaney had never seen a more welcome sight. She grinned in spite of cuts and scrapes.

He was at her side, picking her up, dusting her off, his face knitted with concern. “Are you all right? Are you okay?” He sounded breathless and scared.

“Fine, fine. How about you?”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?” She touched his face, needing proof.

“Are you sure?” His brow furrowed with concern.

“What in the hell is going on with Trudie’s nephew? Why did he run from me? When I get my hands on that punk . . .”

“That wasn’t Louie,” she said.

“Then who the hell was it?”

Delaney shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Nick stared her in the eyes and felt such a surge of gratitude, he couldn’t even speak. Ignoring his weak knee, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the pickup, even though she protested the entire way.

She looked okay, kept demanding he put her down so she could walk, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He held her tightly against his chest and maneuvered toward the passenger side of his truck. Her hair was pressed against his nose. She smelled like sunflowers, and she was trembling like a fawn abandoned by its mother.

His heart jerked hard. If that kidnapper had hurt her in any way, shape, or form, he would strangle him with his bare hands in a crime of passion. He put her in the truck, snapped the seat belt around her, and realized he was trembling too. She could have been killed. He could have lost her.

Taking a deep breath, Nick walked around to the driver’s side and got in beside Delaney. He sat there a moment staring out across the hood of the pickup. He couldn’t look at her. If he looked at her and thought about what could have happened, he would lose it completely.

Nick Vinetti didn’t cry. Not when his wife left him. Not when he hurt his knee. Not when his grandfather died. The events of the past fifteen months were all knotted up inside him. One little chink in his armor and the dam would burst and he would bawl like an infant.

And that little chink was sitting next to him, looking as vulnerable as Bambi and twice as cute.

They were both breathing raggedly, sliding down off the adrenaline high. She was staring straight ahead too, as if trying to reconcile her own emotions. Cars were chugging slowly past, curious rubberneckers staring through their tinted windows at them, trying to guess at their story. They must have made a sight. A handcuffed bride and a limping man in a black suit more fit for funerals than weddings.

No one could guess this.

Once he’d collected himself, he got on his cell phone, called the Houston PD, alerted them to the kidnapping, and had them put out an all-points bulletin on the white delivery van.

“Where to?” he asked and started the engine.

“Away from here.”

“Back to the chapel?”

“No!”

“To your parents’ home.”

“Definitely not.”

“To your fiancé?” He said this last part with difficulty and dread.

“Evan is no longer my fiancé.”

“No?”

Instead of answering his question, she held up her cuffed wrists. “Can you help me out of these?”

“I believe I can help you with that.” Nick leaned over her lap to dig in the glove compartment for the spare handcuff key he kept stowed there. He was acutely aware of her, and from the way her body tensed, he knew she was just as aware of him. He unlocked the cuffs and straightened in the seat as she rubbed her wrists.

Delaney dumped the handcuffs on the dashboard beside Lalule and slipped off her veil. She carefully folded it up and settled in on the seat. Amazingly, the veil appeared no worse for the wear, although her dress was stained with dirt, tar, and grass.

“Does Evan know he’s no longer your fiancé?” he asked, determined to know the answer.

Delaney nodded. “I left him a note where he would find it after the ceremony. I explained why I took the easy way out and had Louie kidnap me. Except, of course, it wasn’t Louie.”

“That’s because I told Trudie to cancel Louie.”

She jerked her head around sharply to pin him with those sea green eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“For one thing, you were involving Trudie’s nephew in a crime.”

“What’s the crime? I was having myself kidnapped.”

“Filing a false police report. Wasting government agency funds to search for you. Remember the brouhaha over Jennifer Wilbanks, the runaway bride?”

It fully hit her then, what she’d done. How she’d been unable to deal with her problems head-on. She’d cheated, taken the easy way out. Delaney uttered a bleak laugh, but nothing was funny. “I’m just like her, aren’t I?”

Nick reached across the table to touch her hand. “Don’t feel ashamed. Your family sort of cornered you into it.”

“That’s no excuse. I was a coward.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not a coward so much as someone who hates to hurt other people’s feelings. You let their needs come before your own, and then you feel trapped by their expectations and don’t know how to get out of it.”

He knew her so well. Better even than Evan, who’d known her all her life. It was as if he could see past the glossy surface her mother had polished and honed to the real Delaney beneath.

“Still, it was such a dumb thing to do.” She dropped her face into her palms. “What must you think of me?”

“Everyone makes mistakes, and I’m sure from the time you realized your kidnapper wasn’t Louie that you were feeling pretty punished by yours.”

This didn’t sound like a cop talking. He was making excuses for her, acting like someone who cared. Delaney held her breath. She didn’t dare hope he cared as much for her as she did for him. A pall of tension hung in the air as they gazed at each other.

“But if you canceled Louie, then who kidnapped me?” Delaney asked. “Maybe more important, why?”

“That’s the big question.”

Puzzled, they looked at each other.

“It could have been a real kidnapping,” Nick said. “You are an oil heiress.”

“But that’s awfully coincidental,” she said. “Unless . . .”

“Unless what?”

“Unless the kidnapper is involved with the same person who’s been blackmailing my mother. He did work as a barker at the Whack-a-Mole booth at the Galveston amusement park.”