There Goes the Groom Read Online Free PDF Page B

back to cosmetology school, maybe I can get a discount.” Marci ripped the end of her gown and used it like a handkerchief to dry Dorothy’s tears, then traced a finger along the woman’s jaw.  “Really, it’s not so bad, Dot.  You have great skin, and your eyes are wonderful. With just a touch of powder and a little of this light blue eye shadow to accentuate your eyes, you’ll be a knock out.”
    Dot brightened, then Marci began examining the other woman’s nails.
    Georgia huffed. “Jesus, is this woman for real?”
    Cade didn’t know what to say. He’d never known anyone like Marci Turner.
    Either she was innocent or the best damn liar he’d ever met.
     
    *~*~*~*
     
    He gripped the phone with one hand and swiped at the perspiration on his forehead with the other as he leaned against the sign for The Roadkill Café. He kicked the gravel with a curse. He was out in the middle of nowhere on some Podunk country ass road that went nowhere.
    Hell, he’d driven like a maniac for the last hour chasing that asshole Pendergrass, but he’d lost him. Worse, now he’d had a flat in front of a place that served the animals they scraped off the side of the road.
    The phone clicked as his boss answered. “Tell me you have the shithead.”
    Might as well get it over with. “Dammit, no. He got away.”
    “Find him,” his boss barked. “I don’t care what it takes, I want him brought to me.”
    The sound of his boss’s unleashed fury relayed his threat. If he didn’t find the man, he was going to be road kill himself.
    “Yes, boss.”
    The phone went dead as his boss hung up, and he grimaced. Then an image of that sexy little woman Pendergrass had left at the altar flashed in his head.
    He knew exactly how to find Pendergrass.
    All he had to do was have a little chat with his bride.
    The poor sweet thing was probably crushed that her fiancé had skipped out. A little sympathy and seduction, and she’d be pouring out her troubles to him in no time.
    His finger rubbed the butt of his gun.
    If his charms didn’t work, he knew a lot of other ways to make a woman talk.

C HAPTER F OUR
     
     
    Cade jerked his head up as his captain strode in.  He took one look at the camera where Marci was now offering tips to the hookers on touching up their roots and grimaced.
    “That one has either got to be dumb as dirt or a pro.”
    His thinking exactly.
    Although for some reason hearing his captain disparage Marci irritated him. Maybe it was his condescending way of treating everyone like they were beneath him.
    That had to be it.
    He didn’t care one damn iota about Marci Turner’s feelings.
    Or her tears.
    Or the fact that she’d been consoling Dorothy through her own breakdown and now had offered the hookers free foils, whatever the hell that was. Then she’d given her number to the withered up hag in the neighboring cell and offered to do free mud treatments on her face to take ten years off of her life so she could find a decent boyfriend.
    “Did the officers find the bullet casings?” he asked, forcing his mind back on track.
    “Two slugs from a .38.” Captain Rayner tilted his head to the side as Marci  yanked up her dress to show off the tattoo on her upper thigh.  “Wow, just a little more, sweetcakes,” Rayner muttered beneath his breath.
    Cade gritted his teeth.
     A little more and you’d be able to see her underwear. That is, if she was wearing any. Which she probably wasn’t.
    Or maybe she had on those sexy see through thongs…
    The drunk across the way practically poked his head through the bars straining to get a better look himself. Sometime between the discussion about tips versus gel nails and root jobs, the sumo wrestler had emerged from his coma to admire the latest addition to their cozy little cellblock.
    Marci hitched up her hip. “See, how detailed the lily is,” Marci said proudly.  “Now, the guy I use, Spike, he’s such a doll baby and so professional. He can clean up your