Jilt Trip. Heather Macallister
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He’s asking for the champagne.” Julian inhaled deeply. “I just may give it to him.”
“Which reminds me.” Nikki got to her feet and gathered the paper cups and bottle, emptying the contents in the nearest potted greenery. “This will liven up their drab lives.”
“Uh, Nikki?” Saunders pointed to a growing puddle. “That’s a fake plant.”
“At least she can’t kill it,” Julian said.
“Don’t say that word!” Saunders pleaded.
“Will you two please get Carter in the wheelchair!” Nikki closed her eyes and reined in her temper. Criminal masterminds they were not. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“I’ll find something to clean up the mess,” Saunders offered, carefully avoiding Carter’s comatose form.
Ultimately, it took Nikki’s help to maneuver Carter’s heavy, limp body into the wheelchair.
“Julian, see if there’s a back way out.” Nikki arranged the afghan around Carter, concealing everything but his shoes. Then she tied a scarf around his head, Russian peasant style.
“What do you think?” She pulled a few tendrils over his forehead and stepped back.
Saunders looked doubtful. Well, it was too late to quit now.
A tight-faced Julian returned. “There’s a back exit, but it would mean wheeling him around on the sidewalk.”
“Better than wheeling him through the front of the church,” Nikki decided. “Is the coast clear?”
“I’m just about finished here.” Saunders swiped at the puddle with something Nikki thought looked horribly like a child’s choir robe.
“You are finished.”
Saunders dropped the white cloth as though it had burnt him.
It was eerily quiet, with nothing but the occasional squeak of the wheels accompanying them as they maneuvered Carter down the hall. About the time Nikki pinpointed what was different, the organ began playing again.
The majestic sound reverberated in the empty halls.
Nikki gasped. “It’s ‘Trumpet Voluntary’!”
“So?” Julian said over his shoulder.
“That’s usually the processional music!” Nikki stopped and listened.
“Hurry up!” Saunders urged, his voice cracking. The pressure was obviously getting to him.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” she said to Julian. The music continued. “You go on ahead.”
“What?” Saunders screeched as Julian pulled him along. “She can’t abandon us!”
Nikki ignored him and ran in the other direction. She passed by the groom’s dressing room and reached the antechamber in time to see Reverend Royer swish through the paneled door.
Good. Maybe he’d stop the organist.
She waited several seconds, breathing quickly.
The music swelled.
Nikki made her way down the dark labyrinthine hallway toward a stream of light seeping from under a door. The music grew fainter. Holding her breath, she stopped in front of the door and slowly cracked it open, hoping it wasn’t the sanctuary.
No noise came from inside the room. Nikki pushed the door open farther. She had an impression of peach and blue, with a large mirror surrounded by lights. The scent of perfume and hair spray hung in the air. Plastic clothes bags, tissue paper and other wedding residue littered the sofa.
This was the bride’s room.
And it was empty.
“Oh, my God!” she whispered. “They are starting without him!”
Hurling herself toward the door across the room, Nikki yanked it open and found herself in the church vestibule.
As she stared, one taffeta-clad bridesmaid began the hesitation step.
Left standing at the entrance was the maid of honor.
And the bride on the arm of her father.
An icy, regal beauty, Dee Ann looked lovely. Her blond hair was upswept and her dress was a stark column of beaded satin. A cathedral train swirled behind her.
Nikki almost felt sorry for her. Dee Ann had obviously decided that the sound of the wedding music would bring Carter to the altar.
How could Nikki stop this? What could she say? For one hysterical moment, she thought about blurting out the truth, but no one would believe her.
Frankly, she found it hard to believe herself.
A small woman dressed in black fussed with the bride’s train. No doubt the wedding coordinator or her assistant.
Nikki hissed and beckoned, but the woman ignored her. Creeping forward, Nikki tried again. “I have to talk with you!”
The wedding coordinator, her mouth set in a reproving O flitted toward her. “Shush! We’re taping.”
The music grew louder and the maid of honor hugged Dee Ann before starting down the aisle.
This was awful. Surely they’d noticed that Carter wasn’t there yet?
“You’ve got to stop her!” Nikki implored the woman.
“I’ll do no such thing!”
Nikki lunged toward Dee Ann.
The woman, surprisingly strong for her size, restrained her.
The organ swelled and Dee Ann stepped over the threshold as Nikki watched in horror. “No! The groom isn’t there!”
“What are you, hon, an ex-girlfriend?”
Ex. If only she were. “I—he…he’s sick.”
“What do you mean, sick?”
“He suddenly collapsed and…appendicitis, I think.”
The woman’s fingers dug into Nikki’s arms and her face whitened.
“Tell Dee Ann not to worry.” Nikki pried the coordinator’s fingers off her arm. “We’ve taken him to get medical attention. But…” Trailing off, Nikki pointed to the empty doorway.
With a screech, the woman whirled through it.
Nikki didn’t stay to see the disaster unfold. Running down the gray marble steps of the church, she hurried toward one of the three limousines parked in front.
“Did you stop her in time?” Julian asked and opened the car door.
Gasping for breath, Nikki shook her head as she climbed in.
“Oh, boy.” Opposite her, a sweating Saunders supported a still-unconscious Carter.
“Oh, boy?” Bob’s voice cracked from the front seat. “That’s all you have to say? After…after…” He buried his head on his knees.
Julian slammed the driver’s-side door and put the car in gear. Nikki swiveled toward him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Is Bob up to this?” she asked in a low voice.
Julian shrugged.
With raised eyebrows, Nikki nodded to a quiet Saunders. Shaking his head, Julian rolled his eyes.
Bob moaned.
Nikki reached a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “Bob, why don’t you stay here and go home with your wife and kids. We need someone to tell us what happens.”
“Lucky stiff,” Saunders muttered.
“Thank you.” Bob sounded so pathetically grateful that Nikki