Chapter 4 - THE WEDDING THAT BECAME A TRAP
Adrian canceled the ceremony.
Not publicly.
Not immediately.
He told the coordinator there was a medical emergency.
Guests were moved toward cocktails.
Security locked down exits.
Rebecca removed her veil.
I removed my florist apron.
Apparently neither of us was finishing the day as planned.
Adrian paced the private suite.
“Who sent the photo?”
His head of security, Owen Mercer, answered.
“Burner. Local tower.”
“Guest?”
“Possibly.”
I stared at Adrian.
“Who wants you dead?”
He looked at me.
“That answer is complicated.”
“Try.”
“Three years ago, I found out someone inside Parker Development was laundering money through municipal contracts.”
Rebecca blinked.
“Your company?”
“My father’s company originally.”
“Who?”
Adrian hesitated.
“My uncle, Thomas Parker.”
I knew Uncle Thomas.
Charming.
Expensive suits.
Always brought wine to holidays.
He also gave a eulogy at Adrian’s funeral.
Of course he did.
“He ordered the bomb?”
“I believe so.”
“Why not go to police?”
“Because some of the police were being paid.”
Rebecca looked at Adrian.
“So you faked your death.”
“Yes.”
“And then proposed to me?”
“I was already involved with you.”
I closed my eyes.
At least he admitted that.
Rebecca’s face hardened.
“You keep saying that like it helps.”
“It doesn’t.”
No.
It did not.
Adrian continued.
“My plan was to stay dead until I had enough evidence.”
“What changed?”
“Thomas found out Julian was helping me.”
That explained why Julian was in Adrian’s car.
He had been moving evidence.
The bomb killed him.
Colleen whispered:
“We buried Julian under Adrian’s name because if Thomas knew Julian had died carrying evidence, he would know Adrian was still alive.”
I looked at Adrian.
“And after that you decided you could marry Rebecca?”
His jaw tightened.
“I needed Senator Langley’s access.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“There’s my love story.”
“I cared about you.”
“Did you love me?”
Adrian did not answer quickly enough.
Rebecca nodded.
“Good to know.”
Then Owen entered.
“We found the photographer.”
“Who?”
“Wedding videographer’s assistant.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“Bring him.”
The young man was terrified.
He had been paid five thousand dollars to photograph me if I appeared.
“By Thomas?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who hired you?”
“Woman.”
“What woman?”
He showed us a message thread.
No name.
Then a profile image.
My stomach dropped.
A woman with short blond hair.
Blue scarf.
I knew her.
“Claire.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Who?”
“My sister.”
The room went silent.
I had not spoken to Claire in almost two years.
She had blamed Adrian for destroying our family relationships.
She hated him.
Or so I thought.
Owen traced the payment account.
It belonged to a shell company.
Registered agent:
Claire Cole.
May you like
My sister had been watching Adrian’s wedding.
And apparently she already knew he was alive.
