Strategically Wed Read online

  Maggie had endured their incessant ribbing with gritted teeth. She understood that so many aspects of their jobs as police officers in the south central Wisconsin community of seventy thousand bore the grim reality of the ugliness gaining a strong foothold in their fair city. Only a week ago, a man had killed his female roommate when he discovered her sleeping with another man. Even though he’d never dated this woman, he claimed to love her and couldn’t bear to see her with anyone else.

  A crime of passion.

  Love and hate. So closely intertwined. Each one capable of incredible pain and destruction.

  The sound of footsteps clipping against the tile floor brought a surge of relief as Wylie rounded the corner and strode toward her. His frown hadn’t lessened.

  She met him halfway. “Have they found anything?”

  The rigid roads of tension lining his face foretold his answer. “They’re working on it.”

  She pressed fingers against her suddenly aching forehead. “Did the shooter think we’d release the church robbers if he brought down a cop?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the church robbers who were after him.”

  She stopped massaging her temples. “Who else could it have been?”

  Wylie dug into his pocket and produced the small dog-eared note pad that he always carried with him. “That’s what we need to find out. Guy Fergus has been released.”

  The name sounded vaguely familiar. “The man who set fire to his own house, killing his wife and two daughters? I thought he was a lifer with no parole.”

  “Apparently Fergus brushed his teeth enough times a day to warrant a release on good behavior.” Wylie’s frustration echoed a tired theme of a familiar song. New lyrics to an old tune.

  “Damn.”

  “Right.” He lowered his voice as a woman and her young son walked by and went into a nearby waiting room.

  Maggie turned her back on them so her words wouldn’t carry. “Is Fergus being brought in for questioning?”

  “They’re looking for him. But the shooter could have been anyone who had a grudge against either you or Griff.”

  “Me?” Then she frowned as the memory of the wind catching her veil flashed through Maggie’s mind.

  She lifted the frilly garment in her hand and looked for the evidence she didn’t want to find. When she found it, she froze.

  Before she could say anything, Wylie plucked the veil from her hand. “Where did this hole come from?”

  Maggie shook her head. That moment in time seemed to grow bigger with each passing second. She didn’t want to believe Griff took a bullet meant for her. “I wasn’t the one who was shot.”

  Wylie’s gaze was direct and piercing. “Who says the shooter wasn’t a bad shot? You were both standing in front of the church. Griff wasn’t necessarily the target. Or maybe both of you were.”

  The laughter that spurted from her mouth contained no humor. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It does if someone wanted to stop you two from getting married.”

  “I’ve only been living in Pendleton for the past few months. Why would anyone try to kill me?”

  “You worked in the department until three years ago. Maybe someone has been biding his time, waiting for you to return.”

  Maggie shivered. The hallway seemed almost cave-like, cutting off light from the real world outside. “What’s the next step?”

  Before he could answer, the double doors opened from the outside and Maggie’s Aunt Jessica stepped through them. She wasn’t alone. At her side was Reverend Foxworth.

  Her aunt started speaking before she was a halfdozen yards away. “We got here as soon as we could.”

  Maggie stiffened at the sight of the black book in the reverend’s hands. “Griff doesn’t need last rites. He isn’t going to die.”

  “Of course he’s not, dear. But neither should he go into surgery without a loving wife at his side,” Aunt Jessica stated firmly.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Wylie struggle to contain a smile as they both realized her aunt hadn’t given up her quest to get her niece married off even if the groom was semiconscious. Knowing she wasn’t going to get any help from Wylie, Maggie managed to hang on to her patience. “Griff and I don’t want to get married.”

  “Nonsense, girl. You two were made for each other. Anyone can see you two are perfect—”

  “Griff’s unconscious,” Maggie interrupted with a lie, unwilling to stand here and argue.

  Her aunt’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes watering. “Oh that poor, poor boy.”

  The reverend slipped his little black book into his pocket. “Since I can’t marry you two, why don’t I offer a prayer for your husband’s…I mean, Mr. Murdock’s recovery. Would that be okay?”

  Maggie smiled her relief. “That would be great. We’d appreciate—”

  “No, we wouldn’t,” Wylie interrupted.

  Maggie swung toward him with surprise. “I don’t think Griff would object to a prayer.”

  He waved her question away with impatience. “That’s not what I meant. The prayer is fine, but I think the reverend here should finish marrying you two.”

  “Forget it,” Maggie said flatly.

  “I thought Griff was unconscious.” Jessica’s expression altered between hope and suspicion.

  “I’m sure he’s conscious by now,” Wylie assured her.

  Maggie squeezed Wylie’s arm. “Could I talk to you privately?” Her pressure didn’t seem to phase him.

  In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice it. “I want the guy who did this.”

  “So do I.” Maggie wished her aunt wasn’t standing at her elbow.

  “We don’t know why this guy winged Griff. Anything is possible.”

  “The thieves—”

  “Might or might not be responsible. We have no evidence so far that there was a third thief,” he said. “There’s also the possibility this shooting might have occurred because someone believed you two were actually going to be man and wife.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” She fingered the tightening collar of the wedding dress, trying to find a bit of breathing room. Now she wished she had chosen a dress with a lower neckline that allowed more air to flow over her heated skin. The hospital corridor was becoming decidedly stuffy. “The gunman was probably the thieves’ lookout man, and when things went bad, he wanted to get even and tried to take out Griff.”

  Wylie waved her damaged veil in front of her, a movement sharp with impatience. “It doesn’t track. A smart thief would keep his head low. Trying to kill either of you would finger his presence, ensuring we’d come looking. He’d want us to think there were only two people involved.”

  “Who said he was smart?”

  “He’s smart enough to pull off a shooting under our noses.” When she didn’t comment, he lowered his voice to a personal level. “Think about it, Maggie. Why would a thief, who will probably get off with a slap on the wrist or get out of prison early on good behavior, risk a life sentence?”

  His reasoning made her nervous. “What about the woman they beat up at the last wedding?”

  “A good lawyer could get the charges diminished or dropped during a plea bargain. Either way, he won’t get much of a sentence,” he said patiently as he shredded another one of her arguments.

  She hated his logic. But she couldn’t argue against it, either. They could create a lot of possibilities for why the shooting occurred, but until they caught the gunman, all their theories were suppositions. Nothing more. She sighed. “So you want us to pretend to be married?”

  “Not pretend. I want it on record so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the deed is done.” The granite edge in his tone bespoke his determination. “We make this marriage official so whoever pointed a gun at you knows you’re actually married.”

  Shock raced through her with the devastating impact of a lightning bolt. “You’re joking.”

  “You don’t have to sleep with Griff. Just see throug
h this whole charade. You can annul the marriage as soon as we’ve caught this guy and Griff’s back on his feet.”

  “Or you might decide it’s best to stay married,” Aunt Jessica inserted hopefully.

  The air in the hallway became thinner, harder to draw into Maggie’s lungs. “In case you’ve forgotten, this wasn’t a real wedding. What if someone finds out the truth?”

  Wylie gave her a look that had made more than one prisoner squirm. “We did everything to make it look real. Very few people knew the whole truth. Only those assigned to this case were alerted in the department. No memos were circulated stating otherwise. That ceremony was real except for your signatures penned to the dotted line.”

  Her aunt and the reverend didn’t interrupt but Maggie felt the pressure of their presence.

  She tried to think but couldn’t. She took a step out of their tight little circle and stared at the door that separated them from Griff. “The thieves must have had a lookout man stationed nearby,” she thought aloud, trying to rationalize her favored theory—the only theory worth considering for the sake of her sanity. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Then why wait to shoot at you and Griff after we’d taken away the suspects?” Wylie’s tone was smooth, as if he knew he had her in the palm of his hand. He splayed his hands. “Why not gun down the arresting officers and try to spring his associates?”

  She hated his reasoning, hated even more the idea of tying herself legally to Griff. “It could be one of Griff’s enemies. He’s made more than a few.”

  “Or it could be one of yours. You put away your share before you left Pendleton. We all make enemies in this business.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he didn’t cut her any slack or allow her to dodge the blunt reality. “You don’t have to like it. You just have to follow through with the operation until it’s finished. Covering all our bases is the best chance we’ve got of nailing this guy. We have to assume he wanted either one or both of you dead and presume he’ll try to make another attempt. He’ll come looking.”

  “We’ll be targets.”

  “You’ll be protected. Think of it as an undercover job.”

  “And if we don’t continue this charade?”

  “We’ll lose a potential cop killer. He’ll go into hiding and resurface again when one or both of you least expects it. You could be sitting ducks. Do you want to keep looking over your shoulder the rest of your life?”

  Maggie didn’t believe she was a target. And yet, if she hadn’t stepped back at that last minute….

  Had Griff taken a bullet meant for her?

  Her wedding dress wasn’t any protection against the icy fear stealing along her backbone.

  Wylie tightened his hands on her shoulders. “Make those marriage vows legal, so we can find this guy.”

  “For how long?” She knew the answer even before she asked the question.

  “As long as it takes. We protect our own, and we’ll go the extra mile to bring in this guy, lock him up and throw away the key.” He relaxed his fingers and gave her a crooked grin. “It’s not like either of you has a beau or girlfriend that you have to make excuses to.”

  The walls loomed closer. She made one more stab to push them back. “What makes you think Griff will even agree to the marriage?”

  “He’s a cop. He’ll do whatever it takes to bring in his man. You, more than anyone else, should know that.”

  She did know it.

  Griff Murdock was first and foremost a cop—just like her father. But as much as she respected the code and commitment they lived by, she’d vowed never to marry one. And she’d certainly never marry Griff Murdock, the man who had always been between her and her father’s undivided attention.

  Griff could put the kibosh to this crazy plan, and she’d have a chance of escaping. But she knew he wouldn’t.

  She also knew that if she’d been the one who had been hit at the church, Griff wouldn’t be standing in the hall dithering while her life hung on the line. He’d already have his name on the dotted line and be ordering the hospital staff to get her into surgery stat.

  Slumping against the wall, Maggie blew at the piece of scraggly hair that had once been a part of her fancy hairdo. This morning when she’d had it done at one of the local beauty salons seemed so long ago. “You have all the answers, don’t you?”

  “If I did, Griff wouldn’t have two bullets in him and you wouldn’t be standing here right now.” She heard the pain of self-blame in his tone before he tucked the wayward strand of hair behind her ear and brushed a rough knuckle against her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. What’s it going to be?”

  Maggie looked past his shoulder at Aunt Jessica, who was looking anxious. Wylie was right. She didn’t want to keep looking over her shoulder. Nor did she want anyone to get caught in the cross fire again if she was the intended target.

  She finally gave in and jerked her head in agreement, before reminding him, “I’ve got to leave by the end of the week to get back to Somerstown. I want to open my store in three weeks.”

  “We can work around that.” Wylie’s promise came quickly before she could retract her agreement. “I’ll go talk to that battle-ax of a nurse and ask if we can see Griff.”

  As he disappeared into the next room, Jessica came over to her side and patted her hand. “You’re doing the right thing, honey.”

  Maggie nodded, wishing she had her aunt’s confidence.

  Seconds later Wylie reappeared. “We need to make this fast, Reverend. They want to get Griff ready for surgery.”

  As soon as they entered the room, two nurses and a resident moved aside. Griff’s eyes were closed. The reverend went immediately to Griff’s side and touched his arm. “How are you doing, Mr. Murdock?”

  Griff grunted. His eyes cracked open to a slit.

  “There’s no time for chitchat, Reverend,” Wylie said tersely. “You got that marriage license?”

  “It just needs to be signed. I bent the rules and had the witnesses sign their names already.” He pulled a paper from his Bible and offered a pen to Griff. “Do you think you can sign this?”

  Griff’s eyes opened again. Ignoring the paper in front of him, his gaze cleared and settled on Maggie. “You won’t take advantage of me, will you, Bennington?”

  His humor helped solidify her courage. She took her position next to him. “With two bullet holes in you, you’re safe. I only take advantage of men who can go the distance.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Hand me the pen, Rev.”

  With a bit of maneuvering, Griff scrawled his name across the documents. Then it was Maggie’s turn.

  The deed was done and over within seconds.

  Reverend Foxworth pocketed the papers. Straightening, he gave them a wry grin. “We’ve done things a bit backward but it’s now official in the eyes of the Lord and the law.”

  Nurse Miller attempted to reclaim her post next to Griff. “Okay, people, move aside. We need to get him into surgery before that fracture sets.”

  Aunt Jessica placed her body between Griff and the nurse. “They haven’t kissed yet.”

  “Aunt Jessica—”

  “Perhaps we should have a prayer instead,” the Reverend interrupted.

  But her aunt refused to give in. “Maggie, quit being such a ninny and kiss Griff so they can patch him up. Do you want the poor man to die without having kissed his bride?”

  “But I—”

  “Oh for crying out loud, kiss him, girl,” Wylie ordered, “and we can all get out of here.”

  Aware of everyone watching her, Maggie tried to pretend the man in front of her was no different than anyone else she might kiss. With any luck, and considering all the pain he was in, he’d never even remember.

  His closed eyelids gave her hope. Not giving herself any time to think, she leaned forward and brushed her lips quickly against his. The coldness of his mouth shocked her. She started to move back when his eyelids opened sl
ightly. His lips moved, and she had to bend close to him to hear him.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  “You need practice…. We’ll work on it later.”

  Before she could retort to his outrageous statement, Nurse Miller shooed them away from her patient.

  After their abrupt escort from the room, Jessica dragged one of her handkerchiefs from her handbag and blotted the wetness from the corner of her eyes. “Oh, that was truly lovely. Just like when my Harold kissed me on our wedding day.” She delicately dabbed once again and then beamed at Maggie. “I know your father is smiling from heaven. You’ve made him so happy, my dear.”

  Maggie was glad this farce made someone happy. She, on the other hand, longed to grab one of those lacy hankies from her aunt’s purse and bawl her eyes out.

  Chapter 4

  “Why did you agree to sign the marriage certificate?”

  Griff’s question three days after their so-called wedding caught Maggie by surprise.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You wanted to run. Admit it,” he prodded her.

  Maggie had to bite her lip to keep from putting him in his place.

  Ever since they’d moved Griff into a private room an hour and a half after he’d emerged from surgery, he’d said little. The pain medication he’d reluctantly agreed to take had made him groggy and disinclined to talk.

  They had removed two bullets from him. One had chewed a hole through his thigh, producing a gusher when it punctured a major blood vessel. The other had broken the clavicle bone in his shoulder before it ended up lodged perilously close to his heart. Screws had been inserted to hold the bone in place while it healed. Although his surgery had taken almost four hours—considerably longer than expected—during the past twenty-four hours, Griff had made significant progress. The doctor predicted he should make a complete recovery.