Veil of Night Read online

  She was coldly furious with Doug; this was all his fault. He’d let Carrie goad him, let her trigger a momentous loss of temper. Kabob skewers, for God’s sake. If he’d wanted to get rid of Carrie it could’ve been done in a hundred different ways, all of them less ridiculous. Most of them wouldn’t have led right back to him. She could have helped him plan a method of disposal that would leave people wondering where Carrie had gone. She could’ve been another runaway bride, and eventually people would have stopped looking. It wasn’t as if anyone would actually miss Carrie, except maybe her parents, but if they had any brains at all it wouldn’t take them long to realize how much nicer their lives were now that Carrie was gone. God, she’d been such a bitch. Taite had always been amazed that Carrie had been able to turn on the sugar and fool people whenever she wanted.

  But instead of careful planning, Doug had lost his temper and now here they were: Taite was left cleaning up his mess so her own life wouldn’t be ruined. Without Doug, her home would be taken away, her lifestyle would suffer. She wouldn’t even have the dream that one day he’d leave his bitch of a wife and marry her.

  He owed her. He owed her big-time. When this was done he was going to owe her a shitload of diamonds, and maybe a beach house. Make that definitely a beach house.

  If she got good at this, maybe Mrs. Hoity-toity Dennison could be next. It was the time crunch that made the planning of Jaclyn’s murder so difficult. Next time, she’d be able to plan properly.

  Not that Fayre Dennison was the type to just up and disappear. Her murder would need very careful planning.

  Douglas wasn’t getting off scot-free. No, this was his mess and he had to help clean it up. Taite knew she couldn’t very well drive all over town with no car tag, not after Friday night, and she didn’t dare let anyone see her own car in the vicinity of Jaclyn’s demise. So she was driving a borrowed car, one Doug had provided—one of Mrs. Dennison’s vehicles, a BMW sedan. Taite thought that was a hoot. She almost wanted to be seen—well, the car, not her personally—so the high-and-mighty Mrs. Dennison could be grilled about her whereabouts this afternoon. Wouldn’t it be cool if she didn’t have an alibi? If the cops began to think that maybe Mrs. Dennison killed Carrie to keep her out of the family?

  In fact, it might be a good thing if someone did take note of the car. Taite wore gloves, so she didn’t have to worry about prints, and the hat and sunglasses made a decent disguise, at least from a distance. All she had to do was get off one good shot, then get the hell out of Dodge and ditch the car somewhere. It would eventually be found, but the important thing was there wouldn’t be anything to link her to it.

  It was early in the evening but still light out—ah, summer—as the bride and groom made their getaway. Finally! Taite was getting a little cramped, sitting in the car for so long, and her hands and head were sweating beneath the gloves and hat. Soon after the bride and groom departed, wedding guests started climbing into their cars and making their getaways, car after car peeling out of the lot, heading in all directions. No one paid the car across the street any attention at all. Taite had made certain she was parked at the back of the lot, in the shade, so even if anyone glanced in her direction the car might look empty.

  She even saw Doug and his bitch wife leave. Good. Now no one could place Mrs. Dennison at the church while Jaclyn Wilde was getting killed somewhere else. Now it would be Doug’s word against his wife’s, and the evidence would point to her. It struck Taite as a neat solution.

  Finally, Jaclyn Wilde left by the side door. Twilight was deepening by then. She wasn’t alone; she never was, damn it. There were two older women and a pretty black girl with her. They all hugged, and after a few words headed for separate parts of the parking lot. One of the women headed for a Jag that looked just like Jaclyn’s. Taite had wondered about that car when she’d seen it in the lot, had wondered if somehow Jaclyn’s car had been repaired and returned so soon. It hadn’t seemed likely, but the detail had jarred her. Nice to know there was a logical explanation.

  Naturally, Detective Wilder was close by, following Jaclyn out to the parking lot. Taite was almost glad. The job she had to do would be easier if she could get Jaclyn alone, but he could go, too. She might as well get two birds with one stone, if she could. It would be best if she could concentrate on one at a time, Jaclyn first and then Wilder, but she didn’t know what the night might bring. Besides, killing a cop wouldn’t be so easy, and would rain all sorts of hell down on the scene, but she was prepared for anything. If she had the chance, she’d take it, just because he’d been such a pain in the ass.

  “Where are you staying tonight, Jaclyn?” Taite whispered. She wondered if the wedding planner and the cop had come here in one car, wondered if that would make things easier or harder. It didn’t really matter. From here on out she was going to have to play it by ear. When an opportunity presented itself, she’d make her move.

  Jaclyn got into a Toyota, and Taite had to grin. Boy, wasn’t that a comedown from the Jag? Detective Wilder continued walking, and now that the parking lot was mostly empty she could spot his car, at the far end of the lot. Separate cars, then. Probably just as well. Somehow, some way, she needed to get Jaclyn Wilde alone. A few seconds were all she needed.

  Jaclyn said she just wanted to get back to her hotel room and fall into bed. Alone. Eric suspected she didn’t really want to do that, but she thought it would be best that way. She was protecting herself from him, which annoyed the hell out of him but at least now he understood where her objections were coming from. He didn’t intend to give up, though; they had something good. At the very least, they had something that had the potential to be very good, and eventually she’d admit it.

  “I’ll go straight to the hotel,” she promised. “You don’t have to follow me to the hotel and lock me in.”

  “Yeah, I kinda do.”

  She looked momentarily exasperated, but then she cast a glance over her shoulder at the church, and visibly shivered. “It’s okay,” he said gently. For now, anyway. Nothing could happen to her on his watch, because he couldn’t live with himself if it did. Friday night’s attempt had been too damn close, and the thought of how close she’d come to a bullet still sent his blood running cold.

  She nodded tiredly, then unlocked her car and tossed her purse into the passenger seat. “I’ll be right behind you,” Eric said, and continued walking toward his car.

  She had to wait on some traffic, so even though he had to walk farther, he was right behind her as she left the lot. She drove the speed limit, and stuck to the slow lane. He wondered if she did it to annoy him, and grinned at the thought. Everyone knew cops drove faster than the speed limit; it was kind of a job requirement.

  Traffic was light, so as he followed her Eric had plenty of time to think, to consciously admit some things to himself. He wanted her. Not just for a night here and there, not for a date or two. She’d gotten under his skin in a big way, and he might as well not fight it. He wanted her, bad coffee, trust issues, and all. It had been a long time since he’d wanted anyone or anything this damn bad. He even liked the way she poked at him, like she was doing now with her overly cautious driving. If this was her normal mode of driving, she wouldn’t have been paying a speeding ticket the first time they’d met.

  His gaze was on her taillights, and his mind was definitely elsewhere, so the red light caught him off guard. He’d have been tucked right on her ass, otherwise. Jaclyn made it through on yellow. Was she trying to get away from him? Trying to annoy him? It wasn’t like he didn’t know where she was headed. Had she run through that light because she was driving as absentmindedly as he was, and maybe for the same reason? Maybe she was thinking about last night, or last week, or the possibilities for tonight. Even better, maybe she was thinking about the possibilities for next week, or next year.

  After checking oncoming traffic and finding none, Eric thought about going through the red instead of waiting for the light to change, but a woman in a tight exercise outf