Tess Gerritsen
KEEPER OF THE BRIDE
One
The wedding was off. Cancelled. Canned. Kaput.
Nina Cormier sat staring at herself in the church dressing room mirror and wondered why she couldnt seem to cry. She knew the pain was there, deep and terrible beneath the numbness, but she didnt feel it. Not yet. She could only sit dry-eyed, staring at her reflection. The picture-perfect image of a bride. Her veil floated in gossamer wisps about her face. The bodice of her ivory satin dress, embroidered with seed pearls, hung fetchingly off-shoulder. Her long black hair was gathered into a soft chignon. Everyone whod seen her that morning in the dressing room her mother, her sister, Wendy, her stepmother, Daniella had declared her a beautiful bride.
And she would have been. Had the groom bothered to show up.
He didnt even have the courage to break the news to her in person. After six months of planning and dreaming, shed received his note just twenty minutes before the ceremony. Via the best man, no less.
Nina, I need time to think about this. Im sorry, I really am. Im leaving town for a few days. Ill call you. Robert
She forced herself to read the note again.
I need time. I need time.
How much time does a man need? she wondered.
A year ago, shed moved in with Dr. Robert Bledsoe. Its the only way to know if were compatible, hed told her. Marriage was such a major commitment, a permanent commitment, and he didnt want to make a mistake. At 41, Robert had known his share of disastrous relationships. He was determined not to make any more mistakes. He wanted to be sure that Nina was the one hed been waiting for all his life.
Shed been certain Robert was the man shed been waiting for. So certain that, on the very day hed suggested they live together, shed gone straight home and packed her bags.
Nina? Nina, open the door! It was her sister, Wendy, rattling the knob. Please let me in.
Nina dropped her head in her hands. I dont want to see anyone right now.
You need to be with someone.
I just want to be alone.
Look, the guests have all gone home. The church is empty. Its just me out here.
I dont want to talk to anyone. Just go home, will you? Please, just go.
There was a long silence outside the door. Then Wendy said, If I leave now, howre you going to get home? Youll need a ride.
Then Ill call a cab. Or Reverend Sullivan can drive me. I need some time to think.
Youre sure you dont want to talk?
Im sure. Ill call you later, okay?
If thats what you really want. Wendy paused, then added, with a note of venom that penetrated even through the oak door, Roberts a jerk, you know. I might as well tell you. Ive always thought he was.
Nina didnt answer. She sat at the dressing table, her head in her hands, wanting to cry, but unable to squeeze out a single tear. She heard Wendys footsteps fade away, then heard only the silence of the empty church. Still no tears would come. She couldnt think about Robert right now. Instead, her mind seemed to focus stubbornly on the practical aspects of a cancelled wedding. The catered reception and all that uneaten food. The gifts she had to return. The nonrefundable airline tickets to St. John Island. Maybe she should go on that honeymoon anyway and forget Dr. Robert Bledsoe. Shed go by herself, just her and her bikini. Out of this whole heartbreaking affair, at least shed come out with a tan.
Slowly she raised her head and once again looked at her reflection in the mirror. Not such a beautiful bride after all, she thought. Her lipstick was smeared and her chignon was coming apart. She was turning into a wreck.
With sudden rage she reached up and yanked off the veil. Hairpins flew in every direction, releasing a rebellious tumble of black hair. To hell with the veil; she tossed it in the trash can. She snatched up her bouquet of white lilies and pink sweetheart roses and slam-dunked it into the trash can as well. That felt good. Her anger was like some new and potent fuel flooding her veins. It propelled her to her feet.
She walked out of the church dressing room, the train of her gown dragging behind her, and entered the nave.
The pews were deserted. Garlands of white carnations draped the aisles, and the altar was adorned with airy sprays of pink roses and babys breath. The stage had been beautifully set for a wedding that would never take place. But the lovely results of the florists hard work was scarcely noticed by Nina as she strode past the altar and started up the aisle. Her attention was focused straight ahead on the front door. On escape. Even the concerned voice of Reverend Sullivan calling to her didnt slow her down. She walked past all the floral reminders of the days fiasco and pushed through the double doors.
There, on the church steps, she halted. The July sunshine glared in her eyes, and she was suddenly, painfully aware of how conspicuous she must be, a lone woman in a wedding gown, trying to wave down a taxi. Only then, as she stood trapped in the brightness of afternoon, did she feel the first sting of tears.
Oh, no. Lord, no. She was going to break down and cry right here on the steps. In full view of every damn car driving past on Forest Avenue.
Nina? Nina, dear.
She turned. Reverend Sullivan was standing on the step above her, a look of worry on his kind face.
Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? he asked.
If youd like, we could go inside and talk.
Miserably she shook her head. I want to get away from here. Please, I just want to get away.
Of course. Of course. Gently, he took her arm. Ill drive you home.
Reverend Sullivan led her down the steps and around the side of the building, to the staff parking lot. She gathered up her train, which by now was soiled from all that dragging, and climbed into his car. There she sat with all the satin piled high on her lap.
Reverend Sullivan slid in behind the wheel. The heat was stifling inside the car, but he didnt start the engine. Instead they sat for a moment in awkward silence.
I know its hard to understand what possible purpose the Lord may have for all this, he said quietly. But surely theres a reason, Nina. It may not be apparent to you at the moment. In fact, it may seem to you that the Lord has turned His back.
Roberts the one who turned his back, she said. Sniffling, she snatched up a clean corner of her train and wiped her face. Turned his back and ran like hell.
Ambivalence is common for bridegrooms. Im sure Dr. Bledsoe felt this was a big step for him
A big step for him? I suppose marriage is just a stroll in the park for me?
No, no, you misunderstand me.
Oh, please. She gave a muffled sob. Just take me home.
Shaking his head, he put the key in the ignition. I only wanted to explain to you, dear, in my own clumsy way, that this isnt the end of the world. Its the nature of life. Fate is always throwing surprises at us, Nina. Crises we never expect. Things that seem to pop right out of the blue.
A deafening boom suddenly shook the church building. The explosion shattered the stained glass windows, and a hail of multicolored glass shards flew across the parking lot. Torn hymn books and fragments of church pews tumbled onto the blacktop.
As the white smoke slowly cleared, Nina saw a dusting of flower petals drift gently down from the sky and settle on the windshield right in front of Reverend Sullivans shocked eyes.
Right out of the blue, she murmured. You couldnt have said it better.
YOU TWO, WITHOUT A DOUBT, are the biggest screwups of the year.
Portland police detective Sam Navarro, sitting directly across the table from the obviously upset Norm Liddell, didnt bat an eyelash. There were five of them sitting in the station conference room, and Sam wasnt about to give this prima donna D.A. the satisfaction of watching him flinch in public. Nor was Sam going to refute the charges, because they had screwed up. He and Gillis had screwed up big time, and now a cop was dead. An idiot cop, but a cop all the same. One of their own.
In our defense, spoke up Sams partner, Gordon Gillis, we never gave Marty Pickett permission to approach the site. We had no idea hed crossed the police line
You were in charge of the bomb scene, said Liddell. That makes you responsible.
Now, wait a minute, said Gillis. Officer Pickett has to bear some of the blame.
Pickett was just a rookie.
He shouldve been following procedure. If hed
Shut up, Gillis, said Sam.
Gillis looked at his partner. Sam, Im only trying to defend our position.
Wont do us a damn bit of good. Since were obviously the designated fall guys. Sam leaned back in his chair and eyed Liddell across the conference table. What do you want, Mr. D.A.? A public flogging? Our resignations?
No ones asking for your resignations, cut in ChiefAbe Coopersmith. And this discussion is getting us nowhere.
Some disciplinary action is called for, said Liddell. We have a dead police officer
Dont you think I know that? snapped Coopersmith. Im the one who had to answer to the widow. Not to mention all those bloodsucking reporters. Dont give me this us and we crap, Mr. D.A. It was one of ours who fell. A cop. Not a lawyer.
Sam looked in surprise at his chief. This was a new experience, having Coopersmith on his side. The Abe Coopersmith he knew was a man of few words, few of them complimentary. It was because Liddell was rubbing them all the wrong way. When under fire, cops always stuck together.
Lets get back to the business at hand, okay? said Coopersmith. We have a bomber in town. And our first fatality. What do we know so far? He looked at Sam, who was head of the newly re-formed Bomb Task Force. Navarro?
Not a hell of a lot, admitted Sam. He opened a file folder and took out a sheaf of papers. He distributed copies to the other four men around the table Liddell, Chief Coopersmith, Gillis, and Ernie Takeda, the explosives expert from the Maine State Crime Lab. The first blast occurred around 2:15 a.m. The second blast around 2:30 a.m. It was the second one that pretty much levelled the R. S. Hancock warehouse. It also caused minor damage to two adjoining buildings. The night watchman was the one who found the first device. He noticed signs of breaking and entering, so he searched the building. The bomb was left on a desk in one of the offices. He put in the call at 1:30 a.m. Gillis got there around 1:50, I was there at 2:00 a.m. We had the blast area cordoned off and the top-vent container truck had just arrived when the first one went off. Then, fifteen minutes later before we could search the building the second device exploded. Killing Officer Pickett. Sam glanced at Liddell, but this time the D.A. chose to keep his mouth shut. The dynamite was Dupont label.