He shook himself. It was time for him to leave. There was nothing more he could do here, nothing he could do for Trent except hope the man was wrong. The Gerhards seemed like a singularly distasteful family, and if they really were after her diamond mine, she had herself some trouble. But it wasn’t Jackson’s trouble to borrow. He’d done as he’d promised, and he’d found nothing concrete, nothing that said the Gerhards were nefarious criminals.
The bridesmaids filed in through the doorway, chattering among themselves. Crista hung back, touching each of her earrings, fingering her necklace then grasping her large bouquet in both hands and tipping up her chin.
Then, unexpectedly, she twisted her head to look back again. He felt that same rush of emotion tighten his chest cavity. He knew with an instant certainty that she deserved better than Vern. It might be none of his business, but surely she wouldn’t tolerate a husband who’d sneak off and sleep with a string of mistresses.
The heavy door swung shut behind the bridesmaids.
Just he and Crista were left outside.
Jackson glanced around and confirmed that for these short seconds, they were alone.
Before his brain could form a thought, his feet were moving. He was striding toward her.
Her green eyes went wide, and she drew her head back in obvious surprise.
“Crista Corday?” he asked.
“Are you a friend of Vern’s?” Her sexy voice seemed to strum along his nervous system.
“Not for long,” he said. He scooped her into his arms and began walking.
“What?” she squeaked, one of her hands pushing on his shoulder, the other gripping the big bouquet.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He lengthened his stride to the sidewalk.
“You’re not...what are you doing?”
“There are things you don’t know about Vern.”
“Put me down!” She started to squirm, glancing frantically around.
“I will,” he promised, speeding up his pace. “In a moment.”
He reached out and opened the driver’s door of his SUV. He shoved her across to the passenger side. Before she had a chance to react, he jumped in behind her, cranked the engine and gunned the accelerator, peeling away from the curb, narrowly missing a taxi, which responded with a long blast from its horn.
“You can’t do this,” Crista cried, twisting her neck to look back at the church.
“I only want to talk.”
“I’m getting married.”
“After you hear me out if you still want to get married, I’ll take you back to him.”
And, he would. Trent was a criminal. He could easily be lying about the Gerhards for reasons of his own. So, if Crista was okay with infidelity, Jackson would return her to Vern. It would go against every instinct inside him, but he’d do it.
“Take me back now,” Crista shouted at the stranger who seemed to be abducting her. Her mind raced to make some sense out of the situation.
“As soon as you hear me out.” His jaw was tight, his eyes straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel as they gathered speed.
“Who are you?” She struggled not to panic.
She’d always considered herself a smart, sensible, capable woman. But in this scenario she had no idea what to do.
“Jackson Rush. I’m an investigator.”
“Investigating what?” She struggled to stay calm. What was he doing? Why had he taken her?
Then she saw a red light coming up. He’d have to stop for it. When he did, she’d jump from the vehicle. She quickly glanced at the passenger door to locate the handle.
She’d open the door, jump out and run to... She scanned the businesses along the section of the street. The Greek restaurant might be closed. The apartment building doors would be locked. But the drug store. That would be open, and it would be crowded. Surely one of the clerks would lend a bride a phone.
She realized she was still holding onto her bouquet, and she let it slip from her hand to the floor. She didn’t need it slowing her down. Vern’s mother would flip. Then again, Vern’s mother, along with everyone else, was probably flipping already. Had anyone seen this man, Jackson, take her?
She surreptitiously slanted a glance his way. He was maybe thirty. He looked tough and determined, maybe a little world-weary. But there was no denying he was attractive. He was obviously fit under the tux, and very well-groomed.
The vehicle was slowing. She lifted her hand, ready to grab the handle.
But suddenly he hit the accelerator, throwing her back in her seat and sideways as he made a hard right. Another car honked as their tires squealed against the pavement.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“How well do you know Vern Gerhard?”
What a ridiculous question. “He’s my fiancé.”
“Would it surprise you to know he was cheating on you?”
Crista’s jaw dropped. “Where did that come from?”
“Would it surprise you?” Jackson repeated.
“Vern’s not cheating on me.” The idea was preposterous.
Vern was sweet and kind and loyal. He made no secret of the fact that he adored Crista. They were about to be married. And his family was extremely old-fashioned. Vern would never risk disappointing his mother by cheating.
No, scratch that. Vern wouldn’t cheat because Vern wouldn’t cheat. It had nothing to do with Delores.
“Okay,” said Jackson, the skepticism clear in his tone.
“Take me back,” she said.
“I can’t do that. Not yet.”
“There are three hundred people in that church. They’re all waiting for me to walk down the aisle.”
She could only imagine the scene as the guests grew more restless and Vern grew more confused. She wasn’t wearing a watch, and she didn’t have her cell phone. But what time was it? Exactly how late was she to her own wedding?
She scanned the dashboard for a clock. Traffic was light, and Jackson seemed able to gauge the stoplights and adjust his speed, making sure he didn’t have to come to a halt.
“Would you care if he was cheating?” asked Jackson, eyeing her
