WHITELAW'S WEDDING Read online

  They talked about their childhoods, each sharing the heartbreak of having lost loved ones. He, his mother, whom he'd barely known, and his devoted grandparents. She, her mother and father, as well as Rodney and Mike. They had laughed about Manda's teenage crush on Hunter and the amount of willpower it had taken him to resist her. She told him more about Rodney, feeling comfortable sharing her memories with Hunter. And he vented his frustration about his disappointing marriage to Selina and his inability to trust another woman. Until Manda.

  They spoke of liking each other, of caring deeply. Of enjoying lovemaking almost beyond reason. But love was never mentioned, although Manda didn't see how Hunter could miss the look of love in her eyes every time their gazes met.

  She didn't press for more, didn't ask for anything beyond this fantasy honeymoon. Soon enough reality would destroy the fantasy. The demon who had plagued her for so long was yet to be destroyed.

  * * *

  Wednesday evening Manda and Hunter finished off a dinner of delicious chicken stew and cornbread, left by their hosts in a box on the front porch. And a batch of chocolate brownies had been wrapped in a red-and-white-checked kitchen towel and placed atop the other items. Hunter had built a fire in the cookstove and made coffee. After their meal, they took their cups out onto the porch and sat side-by-side in the wicker rocking chairs. Yesterday's rain had nourished the verdant woods and new life sprang up all around them. The scent of honeysuckle wafted on the evening breeze, blending with the subtle sweetness emitted by the flowers on the climbing rosebush that curled around the lattice attached to the side of the porch.

  He would prefer to postpone this moment forever. Had rather face a firing squad than destroy Manda's peace of mind. But she had known that this honeymoon couldn't last, that their mission was yet to be accomplished. What real difference would it make if tonight or tomorrow or this coming weekend brought that ending? They had no choice but to face a harsh reality. The person who had manipulated Manda's life for his or her own needs was still out there, waiting to strike, preparing to kill.

  While Manda had napped this afternoon, Hunter had walked up to the Landry's cabin and made a couple of telephone calls. Perry would leak the information, to Gwen and Claire and Chris tonight. And then to Boyd and Grady tomorrow morning. Matt O'Brien would bring the Dundee agents in by helicopter tonight and the Landry family would head down to Dover's Mill, the closet town to Sequana Falls. Sequana Falls, named for the nearby waterfall, was the surrounding area, including the land on which the Landry cabin had been built. The agents would form an unseen guard and lie in wait for an uninvited guest. Unless Hunter had calculated wrong, Manda's crazed admirer had probably built up a big head of steam by now and wouldn't be thinking straight. All the better. An irrational attacker would be more vulnerable and thus easier to catch.

  "Manda?"

  "What?"

  When she looked at him and smiled, he felt like the biggest heel in the world. She trusted him. How would she react when he told her that he had kept the truth from her? The plan to entrap Manda's harasser had been worked out in detail before their wedding day. Would she understand that he had chosen not to tell her until the last minute because he hadn't wanted her to spend days and nights worrying about what was going to happen?

  He cleared his throat. "There's something I have to tell you and I'm afraid you're not going to like it."

  She set her coffee mug on the porch floor, then turned to him. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong. Not exactly. It's just that something is going to happen … probably … and you need to be prepared for it." He downed the last drops of coffee and placed his mug beside Manda's on the floor. "I guess I should have told you before now, but I didn't want to—"

  "Tell me," she said. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

  "All right." He stood, walked across the porch to the edge and gazed out over the slopping land that dropped gradually to a clearing that overlooked the valley below the cottage. With his back to her, he said, "The night before our wedding, actually in the hours before dawn, after you finally went to sleep, the other Dundee agents and I formed a plan to capture this maniac."

  "What sort of plan?" Manda got up and walked over to stand by Hunter. She didn't touch him, didn't look at him, simply stayed at his side.

  "Tonight Perry is going to let Gwen and Claire and Chris overhear him telling Grams where we went on our honeymoon. And in the morning, he's going to reveal the same information in a similar manner to Boyd and Grady." Hunter waited for her response; there was none. He went on, "If my guess is right, our nutcase should be in a frenzy by now, knowing that not only are we married, but that we've made love. He's not going to wait for us to come back to Dearborn, not when he can sneak up here while we're all alone and kill us."

  "You've known about this plan the whole time. Every day. Every night. All the while we've been… You knew this was coming, knew that our honeymoon would be cut short."

  Hunter grasped the porch railing, his big hands manacling the wooden rounds so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Manda laid her hand over his.

  "It's all right," she said. "I'm glad I didn't know, glad that you waited until tonight to tell me."

  He turned to her then, and when she smiled at him, he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Thank God you don't hate me. I was afraid that you wouldn't understand."

  She reached up and caressed his cheek. "You're in the right business, do you know that? You're a man who instinctively protects those he cares about, whether they want to be protected or not."

  He pulled her into his arms. "Are you saying that in the future, you'd prefer for me to be totally honest with you up front and not keep any secrets?"

  She slipped her arms around his waist, tilted her chin and stood on tiptoe. "That's a good idea. But, no, actually I'm saying that I am an old-fashioned woman who likes having a big, strong man around to protect me."

  "Manda, Manda, you are definitely my kind of woman."

  "I'm glad." She lifted her face to his, inviting his kiss. "Because you're my kind of man," she whispered against his lips.

  He loved the sweet softness of her mouth, the eagerness with which she responded to him. She held back nothing, giving herself completely to every moment as if it might be their last. The very thought of losing her, of having to give her up and walk away once all this was over, made him want her all the more. She had become as addictive as any drug, her power over him growing stronger each day.

  He had meant the kiss to be reassuring, but it quickly got out of hand. His tongue plunged and swirled, seeking, discovering, awakening the desire he couldn't control. Not when Manda was in his arms, her breasts against his chest, his sex pulsing against her mound. He eased his hand between them and undid the buttons on her blouse, then reached inside to cover her bare flesh. Her breast filled his hand. When he massaged the nipple, she keened quietly, deep in her throat and hurriedly ran her hands beneath his loose shirt to splay them on his back.

  He picked her up and set her on the wide banister railing, all the while kissing her lips, her cheek, her ear and then her neck. When he lowered his head to her breast, she clung to him to balance herself and then reached out to unzip his jeans. His sex sprang free.

  Accepting the invitation she offered, he shoved her skirt up to her hips, then spread her legs and lifted her just enough to position her so that he could fit himself into her. She whimpered when he rammed into her hot, wet depths and she held on to him as he pumped her hips back and forth, creating a grinding rhythm that soon had them both panting. As the tension tightened, the pace accelerated. She moaned and sighed. He grunted and growled. And they came apart simultaneously.

  When they regained control of their senses, Hunter helped her down and onto her feet, then cupped her chin and ran his thumb across her lips.

  "I didn't use any protection," he said. "I'm sorry, Manda. I let things get out of control."

  She licked his thumb. "It's all right. I enjoyed it
even more without the barrier between us. I loved feeling that part of you inside me."

  "Damn, Manda, you keep talking dirty like that I'm going to lose my head all over again."

  She took his hand and led him into the house, into their room and straight to their unmade bed. The sheets were rumpled, the pillows at odd angles and the quilts hung halfway on the floor.

  "If this is our last night, then let's make the most of it," Manda said. "I want to go to sleep in your arms tonight and wake up in your arms tomorrow morning."

  They shed their clothes, then Manda sat on the edge of the bed and held open her arms. Hunter went to her, wanting what she wanted, needing what she needed and praying that tonight would never end.

  * * *

  Chapter 16

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  Morning came too soon, the mountain wrapped in mist before the sun broke through the clouds and brought another beautiful spring day to Sequana Falls. Manda and Hunter made love one last time, each knowing what lay ahead. Their mating ended in a frenzy and when it was over they held fast, lingering, reluctant to let the moment pass. But no matter how much they wanted it, time would not stand still. The day progressed, each tick of the mantel clock like a nail hammered into a coffin. Hunter tried to keep her occupied, playing checkers, playing poker, sharing his plans with her for his retirement.

  "You know, I really am serious about moving back to Dearborn, into the old farmhouse. I'd like to raise fruit and cattle and become a gentleman farmer," he'd said.

  Unbidden thoughts of living on the farm with him came to mind. Thoughts of her being his wife, of bearing his children and raising those sons and daughters out in the country, in the sunshine and fresh air. Strong, healthy children, Elizabeth Landry had predicted. More than anything, she wanted those children to be Hunter's. If dreams came true, they could build a life together. Side-by-side, day and night, year after year.

  Manda struggled to stay calm and sane and not run from the cottage screaming. The pressure built as they waited, not knowing when or if her crazed admirer would show up. If Mr. Maniac wasn't one of Hunter's suspects, then no one would come to the cottage today or tonight and all this waiting and worrying would have been for nothing. And they would have to face the moment of truth when they returned to Dearborn. Manda didn't know which scenario would be worse. Of course, it really didn't matter. Now or later, the confrontation was inevitable.

  Although she had neither seen nor heard the Dundee agents, she knew they were out there, strategically positioned to guard the cottage. Jack Parker. Matt O'Brien. Wolfe. And another agent she hadn't met by the name of Domingo Shea. They lay in wait, silent and deadly. A force to be reckoned with. Professional guardians of souls in trouble. Each man prepared to lay down his life in the line of duty.

  Afternoon slipped by, one slow torturous moment at a time. No visitors came to their door, not even a squirrel or a field mouse. She had forced herself to eat a sandwich for lunch, but when dinnertime came, she refused to taste even a bite. Her stomach was tied in knots. Her head throbbed. And her nerves rioted. Every noise upset her. Even the rustle of tree limbs scraping across the roof of the cottage when the breeze grew stronger.

  "I'm sorry you have to go through this," Hunter said as he came up beside her while she paced in the living room. "If I had the power, I'd spare you every minute of this waiting."

  She paused and offered him a weak smile. "I know." Although she felt the tears coming, she willed them to stop. Now was not the time to cry, to give in to weakness. She had to stay strong and in control. Hunter didn't need to deal with her hysteria while he was preparing to bring down a madman.

  "This will all be over soon." Hunter reached for her.

  She practically fell into his arms, thankful for his strong embrace. "If something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to lose my mind."

  He kissed her forehead, then captured her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes. "Just hang in there, brat." He swallowed hard. "My sweet, beautiful, little brat."

  His mouth devoured hers, telling her without words how much he cared, and oddly enough the kiss also told her that he was scared. Afraid for her, not himself.

  "I'll be all right," she promised when he allowed her to come up for air. "I won't fall apart on you. Whatever happens, I'll hold it together."

  He caressed her face, tenderly, with the utmost gentleness. "I know you will. You're a lot stronger than you think you are. What you've been forced to live through would have destroyed a lesser woman."

  She took his words into her heart, storing them there where they could comfort her in the future.

  * * *

  The mantel clock struck five-thirty. Manda jumped. Hunter ran his hands up and down her arms in a soothing gesture. If something didn't happen soon, sometime in the next couple of hours, night would fall and the tension would continue to increase. Fear thrived and grew stronger in darkness.

  Suddenly Hunter heard the signal. Wolfe's birdlike warning call. Someone was coming, heading straight for the cottage. But who? God, who?

  "Manda?" He clutched her shoulders.

  "Yes?"

  "There's someone coming."

  "How do you know?"

  "Listen. Did you hear that?" he asked.

  "Are you talking about the bird chirping?"

  "Yes, but that's not a bird. It's Wolfe alerting us of danger."

  Manda's face paled, but she didn't cry out, didn't even gasp.

  "I'm going to put myself in the line of fire," he told her. "I want you in the room so you can be seen, but not directly in front of a window." He lifted her sweater and checked her bulletproof vest, then kissed her and led her to the far corner of the room. "We need to be talking and acting as natural as possible."

  "What if the Dundee agents can't shoot him before he—"

  "They will get him before he gets me," Hunter assured her. "Once he pulls a gun and aims, they'll take him down. They'll try not to kill him, but if they have no other choice, they will."

  The mantel clock's ticking hammered inside her head. She began talking, jabbering about the weather, then changing the subject to discuss first one thing and another. Hunter replied and commented, helping her keep the conversation going at a fairly normal pace.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, she heard footsteps on the porch. Whoever was out there, he wasn't doing a very good job of sneaking up on them. Loud, pounding bangs hit the front door repeatedly.

  "Manda, dear God, if you're in there, come to the door!" a male voice called.

  She knew that voice. Regret welled up inside her. She hadn't wanted it to be him. It would break his mother's heart.

  "You're in danger, damn it. Please, for pity sake, let me in!" Chris Austin begged as he kept beating on the door.

  "Stay where you are," Hunter whispered to Manda. "I'm going to open the door."

  "No!" Manda gasped the word, fear and uncertainty overriding every other emotion.

  "If he pulls a gun, Wolfe will take him out with one shot."

  When Hunter walked to the door, Manda held her breath. He grasped the knob. Her heartbeat went wild. He opened the door. Her nerves shrieked.

  Hunter's big body blocked her view so she couldn't see the man who stood on the porch, but she could hear him.

  "Have you seen her? Is she here? Please, Manda's life is in danger. And so is yours."

  Moving lightning-fast, Hunter grabbed Chris Austin and jerked him into the living room, then twisted Chris's arm behind him in a painful maneuver to subdue him. Chris yelped.

  "You've got to listen to me," Chris said. "I came to warn y'all."

  "Warn us about what?" Manda asked. "Warn us that you killed your own brother and then Mike. Warn us that you've made my life a living hell."

  "Damn it, Manda, it wasn't me." Chris looked at her pleadingly. "You've got to believe me. I know the truth now. I've suspected it for some time, but I wouldn't let myself believe it."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Hunter asked.
/>   "He's talking about me." The female voice came from the porch.

  Hunter whirled around, using Chris as a shield when he faced Claire Austin. She stood just outside the open door, a 9 mm Smith & Wesson in her hand. He glanced at the gun hurriedly. Then he studied the woman's face. Pure hatred radiated from her, an emotion so strong that it seemed to take on a life of its own.

  "Claire?" Manda gasped.

  "Yes, dear girl, it's me."

  "Don't move," Hunter warned. "She has a gun."

  Manda's mind simply could not assimilate all the information that was bombarding her. Confusion reigned supreme. Chris was her crazed admirer, wasn't he? He had come here to kill Hunter and her, hadn't he? So what was Claire doing here? Had she found out that her own son was a murderer and had come to try to stop him from killing again?

  "Mother, please, don't do this," Chris said. "You're sick. You don't know what you're doing. You don't want to hurt Manda. You love her. Remember how much she means to you."

  A startling truth began to break through the cloud of confusion inside Manda's brain, but she couldn't bear to face that truth because it was so hideously ugly.

  "Mrs. Austin, why don't you put down the gun?" Hunter retained his hold on Chris, continuing to use his body as a shield. "Chris is right. You don't want to hurt Manda."

  "I didn't want to harm her," Claire said. "Not until she defied me and married you. I warned her. She knew the risk she took by being unfaithful to Rodney. She was my son's bride. You must see that I couldn't allow her to be with another man."

  "Claire, please…" Manda took a tentative step. "I don't understand. I know you didn't kill Rodney. You would never—"

  "Rodney's death was an accident," Chris said. "She went a little loopy after it happened, don't you remember?"

  "Why don't you shut up, Chris?" Claire said. "Of course, I didn't kill Rodney, but it was in my best interest to allow you to believe that the person responsible for Mike's death had also killed Rodney."

  "Did you kill Mike?" Hunter asked.