WHITELAW'S WEDDING Page 7

  * * *

  Hunter and Manda became the talk of Dearborn, Georgia. They were seen together everywhere. At local restaurants. At her brother's home. At Mrs. Austin's home. At the mall. They had dinner together every night and lunch every day. Sometimes he picked her up at the clinic and other days he brought lunch to her. They were seen arm-in-arm, cuddling, kissing, laughing and gazing longingly into one another's eyes. And rumor was that Hunter had been spotted at Somerville Jewelers over on Fifth Street

  .

  Manda knew that tonight was the night. Hunter was going to propose, just as he'd said he would. Saturday night. She had prepared dinner here at the house and told everyone who'd listen to her that she knew tonight would be special. Both Gwen and Grams had warned her that she was rushing foolhardily into trouble. Even Claire suggested that she might want to slow down just a bit and make sure about her feelings for Hunter. Boyd had stopped by her office to ask if she was sure she knew what she doing. Grady had phoned her to inquire about the rumors he'd heard. And Chris had been sitting on her front porch waiting for her yesterday evening.

  "You can't be serious about this Whitelaw guy," Chris had said. "He's nothing but a big, macho jock. He's not one of our kind."

  Her discussion with Chris had turned into an argument and she'd been forced to ask him to leave. He had left, but not before he warned her that she'd be sorry if she married Hunter. A cool shiver of apprehension had spiraled through her and for the first time since she'd known Chris, she wondered if he was capable of murder.

  Manda brushed aside her doubts and concerns. She had to get through tonight first, which shouldn't be too difficult. After all, it wasn't as if Hunter was really proposing or that they were really in love. But heaven help her, sometimes she had to remind herself that this was all a ruse, all a grand scheme to trap a killer. She couldn't deny the attraction she felt for Hunter. They were drawn to each other on a primitive level that had nothing to do with compatibility or shared hopes and dreams. The magnetism that drew them together wasn't rational or logical, but had everything to do with basic human needs.

  Hunter had been right when he'd said that it wouldn't be difficult for them to fool the world with their lovebirds act. Every time he touched her, she trembled with desire. And every time she looked at him, he seemed compelled to touch her. If she didn't know better, she would think that they were falling in love.

  Lust isn't love, she kept reminding herself.

  Dinner was ready to be served. She had spent hours preparing the meal. She loved to cook, but seldom had the opportunity to use her culinary expertise. She had set the table with her best china, silver and crystal. All that was left to do was light the candles just before they sat down to eat.

  The doorbell rang. Manda jumped. Chill out, she told herself. But how could she stay calm and cool when, come morning, everyone would know that she was engaged to Hunter? Perry had arranged to have Reverend Titus make the announcement at church tomorrow.

  As she passed the mirror in the foyer, she paused to take a quick look at herself. Nothing spectacular. Just simple tan slacks and white blouse. A little makeup. She had given in to her vanity on only one point. She'd left her hair loose for a change … because Hunter had asked her to.

  When she opened the door, she couldn't see Hunter for the enormous bouquet of lilies, roses and baby's breath that he held in front of him.

  "What did you do, buy out the florist?" she asked.

  He handed her the massive bouquet, then entered the foyer. "I told Mrs. Brownfield that I wanted something impressive because I planned to propose to you tonight."

  Manda laughed as she carried the flowers through the great room and into the kitchen. She called out to Hunter. "That was a stroke of genius. Mrs. Brownfield is the biggest gossip in town. Sometimes I think the only reason she opened a florist shop was so that she could interrogate her customers about their private lives."

  Hunter came into the kitchen and watched her as she separated the flowers into two bouquets and placed each into tall glass vases.

  "I had to show her the ring." Hunter grinned. "She insisted."

  "No fair. Another woman saw my engagement ring before I did." Manda placed one vase in the middle of the kitchen table, then handed the other to Hunter. "Put this in the center of the dining room table, while I check on our dinner."

  He took the vase. "Half the town will know we're engaged before Reverend Titus makes the announcement in the morning."

  "Don't forget to pick me up at ten-thirty," Manda reminded him as she lifted the lid on the skillet containing the stuffed pork chops. "Church starts promptly at eleven."

  "I guess you know that I haven't been inside a church in years. The Good Lord sure is going to be surprised to see me there."

  "I doubt it," Manda said. "I'm pretty sure the Good Lord already knows your intentions."

  "Mmm-hmm… Want me to light the candles?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.

  An hour later, with the meal enjoyed, the dishwasher loaded and the kitchen tidied, Hunter led Manda into the great room. Oxford lay sleeping on a hand-woven rug in front of the fireplace. When Manda sat on the sofa as Hunter instructed her to do, he knelt down in front of her, pulled a tiny box from his pants' pocket and smiled when he looked directly at her.

  "What on earth are you doing?" she asked, tiny giggles tittering in her throat.

  "I'm assuming the correct position," he replied, a wide grin on his face. "Miss Manda, will you do me the great honor of giving me your hand in marriage? I very much want you to be my wife."

  Suddenly, without any warning, tears sprang into Manda's eyes. Why? she asked herself. What had prompted such an emotional reaction to a phony proposal? If he just hadn't added on that last sentence. I very much want you to be my wife. Get hold of yourself, Manda. Right this minute, she scolded herself.

  "Ah, brat … don't." Hunter's big hand lifted, but before his fingertips made contact with her cheek, she pulled back, letting him know she wouldn't welcome his touch.

  "I'm all right," she assured him.

  "Sure you are." He snapped open the box lid and held out the velvet case.

  The ring inside wasn't a diamond solitaire. It was a blue, square-cut, three-carat sapphire flanked by a half-carat diamond on either side. Manda sucked in her breath. The ring was incredibly beautiful and quite unique. If she didn't know better she would think that Hunter had put a great deal of thought into its choice. The sapphire was not only her birthstone, but it was her favorite gem. Had Perry given Hunter that tidbit of information? she wondered.

  "It's perfect," Manda said.

  "Here, let's try it on and see if it fits." He lifted her hand from her lap and slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand.

  "It fits." She lifted her hand and gazed at the ring. Rodney had given her the traditional diamond solitaire. She and Mike had decided on a wedding band alone, but he had surprised her with a diamond heart pendant.

  "Don't think about the other times," Hunter said, his voice slightly gruff. He cleared his throat. "I don't want you to be unhappy. Okay?"

  "I'm not. But—"

  He placed his right index finger across her lips. "What we're doing, what we will accomplish with this phony engagement and even fake marriage, if necessary, is to lay the past to rest. No more unhappiness. We're going to destroy the Manda Munroe Curse once and for all."

  Manda clasped her hands together in a prayer-like gesture. "I want that more than anything. To be free to love again." She noted a slight change in Hunter's expression, as if he had tasted something unpleasant. "Once this is over, I'll owe you more than I'll ever be able to repay."

  Hunter rose from his kneeling position, held out his hand to her and said, "On to the next act. Time to head over to the Munroe house to tell your brother and sister-in-law and Grams the good news."

  "Maybe we'd better stop by the drugstore and pick up some smelling salts for Grams. I have a feeling she's going to keel over in a faint."r />
  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  This morning, everyone at the Hickory Hills Clinic—personnel and clients alike—had admired, gushed and cooed over and ogled Manda's ring. All the sincere congratulations had been difficult to accept since she knew the engagement was a farce and that even if the wedding, which Gwen and Claire were planning, came to be, it, too, would be only a staged production. Knowing in advance that everyone, except Perry, would question the hasty marriage, Manda and Hunter decided that she would tell everyone that the decision had been hers. After all, wasn't it understandable that having had two lengthy engagements end with the deaths of her fiancés that she wouldn't want to wait, wouldn't risk another wedding that would never happen? Her sister-in-law had been surprised by the news that she planned to wed Hunter, but had quickly offered her a hug and best wishes. Tears had sprung to Claire's eyes immediately, but her smile hadn't wavered as she wished them much happiness. Grams had voiced her opinion, stating the reasons why Manda would regret a hasty marriage to anyone, but especially to Hunter. No one had been surprised when Grams had pointed out the vast difference in Hunter's and Manda's backgrounds.

  Despite Grams objections, the wedding was set for the following Saturday. A small, close-friends-and-family affair at the Munroe home. At six in the evening. While Grams had fussed and fumed, Gwen and Claire had gone into action mode and began bustling about helping Manda make a list of all that had to be done to pull off a socially acceptable wedding in less than a week.

  "Leave it to us, dear girl," Claire had said. "Barbara, Gwen and I will make sure everything is perfect for you."

  "Leave me out of this," Grams had told them. "I do not approve."

  Gwen had assured Manda that Grams would come around—eventually. And Claire's biggest concern had been that Manda would have to purchase a bridal gown off the rack, instead of having one designed especially for her. Manda had pointed out that she'd had two other wedding dresses designed for her and neither dress had ever been worn.

  During her morning break, Manda went straight to Boyd's office. He was the clinic's administrator and would be the one responsible for granting her vacation time for her honeymoon. She felt like a fraud, sitting here pretending to be the blushing bride-to-be. Although he didn't seem pleased about her upcoming nuptials, Boyd maintained a cordial expression.

  "Of course, I wish you well, Manda." He splayed his palms atop his desk, then curled his hands into loose fists. "I must admit that I'm shocked. I never thought you were the type of woman who would act on impulse. After all, you hardly know Mr. Whitelaw."

  "I've known Hunter since I was ten," she said. "He and Perry have been best friends since high school."

  "That was years ago. What do you know about the man now?"

  "I know that we love each other," she lied. "And Hunter isn't afraid of some lunatic who might try to prevent us from marrying. I feel confident that if any problems come up, Hunter can deal with them. You do know that he was a member of the Delta Force, don't you?"

  Hunter had told her to mention that bit of information to their three top suspects. She had agreed, although she still didn't believe that Boyd or Grady or Chris was capable of murder. She knew these three men so well … or at least she thought she did.

  "If you're determined to go through with this marriage, then I hope you'll include me on the guest list for the wedding," Boyd said.

  "Yes, of course you'll be invited," Manda replied. Hunter had insisted that the three top suspects head the guest list. "Gwen is going to have the invitations delivered Wednesday. We're inviting only two dozen or so close friends and the immediate family."

  "Yes, yes. I understand. You've planned two larger, more elaborate weddings before, so naturally, you'd want this one to be more discreet. Very wise of you. Less gossip that way. People will talk, won't they?"

  "Yes, you're right. That's exactly what we thought." Manda wondered why she'd never noticed what a stuffed shirt Boyd was. An uptight, judgmental snob. "I've asked Lisa to reschedule my afternoon appointments so I can shop for a wedding dress today. And I'll need next week off for a honeymoon."

  "Certainly. Certainly. Where will you two be going on your honeymoon?"

  "I don't know. Hunter wants it to be a surprise." The truth was that they hadn't planned that far ahead. She assumed that if they were forced to go through with the wedding, Hunter would come up with a plan for a romantic honeymoon. Everything possible had to be done to make this engagement seem like the real McCoy.

  When Manda stood, Boyd jumped up and rushed forward to open the door for her. As she started to walk away, he reached out and grasped her wrist. When she looked at him, she was startled by the intensity of his gaze. His facial muscles tensed as his fingers bit into her flesh.

  "Is something wrong?" she asked, a sense of uncertainty tightening her stomach muscles.

  "I only wish that things had worked out for us." Boyd cleared his throat. "If ever there's anything… Well, you must know that I'd do anything for you. All you have to do is ask."

  Let go of me, Manda wanted to scream. Please, Boyd, you're frightening me. But instead she said, "That's very sweet of you. Thank you." Forcing herself to stay calm, she tugged on her wrist. At first, he held fast, but when she tugged a second time, he released her.

  She exited his office as quickly as she could and practically ran down the hall to her own office. The thud of her heartbeat drummed in her ears as she approached her secretary's desk.

  Lisa glanced up and smiled, but the warm greeting died instantly. "What's wrong, Manda? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

  Manda released a breath that was part huff and part sigh. "I'm fine. Really." She eyed the fifteen-inch-square white box on Lisa's desk. "What's that?"

  "Oh, it must be a wedding gift," Lisa said.

  "From whom?"

  "I don't know. Someone must have dropped it off while I was getting a cup of coffee." She jerked off the small white envelope attached. "Here. Read the card and find out who it's from."

  Manda took the envelope, lifted the flap and pulled out the enclosed card, then read the message out loud. "'Third time's the charm.'" No signature. Just the cryptic statement. Nausea rose in Manda's throat as a sinking feeling hit her in the belly.

  "What sort of person would write something so crass?" Lisa glowered at the box.

  "I don't know." But Manda suspected she did know who had sent her her first wedding gift. The proof's in the pudding, she reminded herself. Open the damn thing and see what's inside.

  Manda stared at the big white bow atop the present, then hurriedly ripped off the ribbon, removed the lid and lifted the tissue paper. Nestled inside was a beautiful white leather "Memories of Our Wedding" album.

  "At least the gift is a nice one, even if the note was rather odd," Lisa said as she visually inspected the album.

  With shaky hands, Manda lifted the book out of the box and laid it on Lisa's desk. She had to force herself to look inside. Do it now and get it over with, she told herself.

  She opened the album and turned over the first page. Name of bride: Manda Munroe. Name of groom: Rodney Austin, Michael Farrar and Hunter Whitelaw. Rodney's name and Mike's had been crossed out with large, black X marks.

  "This has got to be somebody's idea of a sick joke," Lisa said.

  Manda forced herself to turn to the next page. She gasped. This gift was a sick joke all right, one planned and executed by a sick mind. Manda's unsteady fingers traced the headlines of first one and then another obituary that had been cut from the local Dearborn Daily years ago and recently pasted into the wedding album, side-by-side, on facing pages. She quickly turned the page again only to be confronted by more newspaper clippings. Articles about Rodney's death in the car crash and even more articles about Mike's disappearance and murder.

  "Oh, Manda, I'm so sorry," Lisa said. "You should call the police right away."

  "No." Manda shook her head. "I'll call Hunter. He'll know
what to do."

  She closed the album, placed it back in the box and gathered up the ribbons and bow. "When Hunter gets here, let me know. And, please, see if one of the other counselors can take the next session with my group therapy patients."

  "I'll take care of everything."

  "Thanks."

  When Manda opened her office door, Lisa called to her, "How about a cup of coffee?"

  "No, thank you."

  Manda closed the door behind her, walked across the room and laid the gift box on her desk. Then she took a deep breath before she picked up the receiver and dialed Hunter's cellular phone number.

  * * *

  Two hours later the ominous box lay on the back seat of Hunter's Lexus, which sported a set of new tires. He pulled the car into a parking space in front of Lady Leona's Bridal Shoppe. The box and its contents wouldn't be thrown away, just on the off chance that they might at some future time be used for evidence. However, there wasn't much chance of tracing the gift-giver. As Hunter escorted her into the boutique, Manda tried to forget about the disturbing gift.

  He cupped her elbow as they entered the only store in Dearborn that catered solely to brides. The interior was a Pepto-Bismol pink, with gold-framed portraits of their happy customers lining the walls, each woman wearing a gown purchased at Lady Leona's. Two burgundy velvet Victorian sofas and four matching chairs formed a sitting area in the middle of the store. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered the entire back wall. Hundreds of white, ecru and pastel wedding gowns, encased in zippered bags, lined the sides of the walls to the right and left. White and pink silk roses twined about the winding metal staircase that led to a mezzanine level. From where she stood, just inside the front door, Manda could see that the second level was filled with colorful dresses that she assumed were costumes for the bride's attendants.

  A middle-aged brunette wearing a pink smock came rushing forward to greet them. "Hello. I'm Sylvie. Welcome to Lady Leona's Bridal Shoppe. How may I help you?"