The Stolen Bride. Jacqueline Diamond

chairman of the board since her husband’s death two years earlier, maintained an office at Marshall headquarters and apparently also conducted business from home.

      “That brings us to your mother,” he said. “I’ve never been comfortable with the idea that she simply went boating by herself at twilight and fell out.”

      He knew his report hadn’t made a strong enough case to convince his superiors that there’d been a crime. After Erin was nearly killed, however, his concerns had doubled. Although the Tustin police were doing their best to find the driver, he wondered if Erin herself held the key.

      “Your mother decided to take out Lance’s motorboat even though it was nearly dark and there was no one around,” he continued. “Does that sound like something she would do?”

      She shook her head. “I can’t imagine my mother sailing in anything less than a yacht.”

      “She said she’d had a couple of drinks and lost her balance,” he went on. “What do you think of that?”

      “Even if my mother did get drunk, she’d never admit it.” Erin plucked at her lace skirt. “She’s always insisted on keeping up appearances.”

      Although he felt uncomfortable talking with his high school sweetheart as if they were strangers, at least she was willing to hear him out, Joseph mused. Alice Bolding had become annoyed at his implications and her husband had gone ballistic.

      His goal was to resolve his case, and perhaps Tustin’s case as well. That was it. Then Erin could marry any darn fellow she pleased.

      “Your stepfather claims he went shopping that evening, but he didn’t buy anything so there are no receipts,” he said. “I haven’t found any salesclerks who remember seeing him.”

      “I’ve never trusted Lance,” she said. “So I can’t be objective. But if he tried to kill my Mom, why wouldn’t she say so? You must have asked her.”

      “She denied it,” he admitted. “But her body language was extremely tense.”

      “That doesn’t surprise me,” Erin said. “I’m sure she didn’t like talking to the police.”

      Alice had always been a proud woman. Joseph hadn’t liked her much when he’d dated her daughter, because she’d had a way of making him feel about six inches tall. Even so, he’d been surprised by how coldly she’d behaved when he arrived at the lake, as if she resented his attempt to set the record straight.

      Of course, she might have been in shock. Or could she fear that someone would retaliate if she spoke freely? Police dealt with abusive situations all the time, and they weren’t necessarily confined to poor homes.

      “Did you ask her what happened?” he probed.

      “I tried,” Erin said. “I phoned her as soon as I heard. I wanted to come up and find out what was really going on, but when I asked whether Lance had anything to do with it, she ordered me to stay away. For months, she would hardly speak to me, and she refused point-blank to let me visit. We didn’t reconcile until after I got hurt.”

      “You’ve been staying with her. How has she seemed?” He watched her reaction closely.

      “Moody,” Erin said. “Sometimes she’s giddy, then she gets kind of mad at the world.”

      “Was she always like that?”

      “She could be touchy, but I don’t think she feels well. The water must have affected her lungs.” Concern thickened her voice. “She says she’s been fighting off bronchitis, so she rarely goes out and she never invites anyone over except on company business.”

      Abusive spouses often isolated their victims. “Did you talk to her about this?” Joseph asked. “It sounds like she needs help.”

      Erin’s lost expression tugged at his sympathies. “I didn’t dare say anything. My perceptions have been so screwed up, I thought I was getting paranoid. I…” She hesitated.

      “What?” he pressed.

      “It’s silly.”

      “The things people believe are silly often turn out to be important.” Joseph could feel her wondering whether to trust him. He waited, willing her to cooperate. Whatever was going on here, he might never find it out without her help.

      “I thought people were whispering behind my back,” Erin confessed. “Does that sound crazy?”

      “Not at all,” Joseph said. “Has your stepfather threatened you in any way?”

      She swallowed. “No, actually, he’s been rather mellow. That doesn’t mean I like him.” She twisted her gloved hands together. “After my father died, my mother asked me to move back here, but I refused to leave my job. If I’d been around, maybe she wouldn’t have turned to Lance.”

      “This isn’t your fault. Your mother’s always had a mind of her own.”

      “She’s changed,” Erin said. “I don’t think she’s in control anymore. Can’t you help her?”

      Joseph wished he could. He’d become a police officer to help people, and there was nothing more frustrating than when a woman insisted on protecting a man who was abusing her. But there were limits to what the police could do.

      “The chief ordered me to close the case,” he said. “He puts a lot of stock in making nice with the town’s ruling class, and I suspect Mr. Bolding told him to back off.”

      “You’re not supposed to be here today?” Erin said.

      “That’s right.”

      “You are trying to help.” The quaver in her voice hit him in the gut. “You could get into trouble because of me.”

      “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

      Their gazes met and held, and then she smiled. Just like that, he knew he wasn’t over her. He had never been over her. She was the reason every woman he’d dated since high school seemed to lack something vital, only he hadn’t understood that until now.

      “Why the hell are you marrying Chet Dever?” Joseph braced himself for her to say, “Because I love him.”

      “I don’t know,” Erin said.

      “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Relief mingled with pain as raw as it had been more than ten years ago. “How can you marry a guy if you don’t love him?”

      “I must love him. I said yes, didn’t I?”

      “Why are you asking me?”

      Erin scrunched her nose the way she used to do when an idea hit her. Like defying her parents and going to play Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus at a Christmas party for poor children rather than attending their school’s winter formal. Joseph treasured the photo he’d kept from that escapade.

      “I don’t remember saying yes,” she said.

      “Excuse me?”

      “That whole morning is a big blank,” she explained. “He’d proposed the previous weekend. The morning of the accident, I phoned and said I couldn’t wait another day to tell him I wanted to be his wife. That’s what he told me.”

      Joseph hadn’t expected anything like this when he decided to inject himself into Erin’s wedding day. “Whoa. Is it just me or does something smell rotten around here?”

      “Smell,” she said.

      “What?”

      “I just remembered. Something smelled sweet. Flowers.” She blinked. “I’m sorry. I must be thinking of the hospital.”

      She was so confused she could hardly follow her own train of thought. “You’re in no shape to marry anybody.”

      Erin gestured at her wedding dress. “I made a commitment, and I always