Free There Goes the Groom by Rita Herron Page B

if there was.
    Then the shower water kicked on, and he groaned as he imagined Marci naked beneath the spray of water.
     
    *~*~*~*
     
    Marci turned the hot water to full speed, hoping the sound would drown out her voice if she reached Paul.
    She didn’t want mule-headed Muller to hear what she had to say to her fiancé.  She wanted to tell the lying, ratfink, snake off in private.
    Stop it, Marci. You can’t convict him until you hear his side of the story . After all, she was innocent and she’d been locked up for the crime.
    He could be, too.
    First she punched her inbox and listened to the messages. 
    “Marci, this is Zelda French, please tell me that policeman was wrong. You and Paul were such a nice couple. You really did sell us a resort didn’t you?”
    Marci winced then clicked the next.
    “This is Edwina Phillips, I just talked to my attorney and he said my accounts have been cleaned out. It’s bad enough that resort is just a piece of desert land, but now I can’t pay for Mama’s back surgery, and if she doesn’t have it, she’s never gonna walk again.”
    Marci gasped.
    Had Paul gained access to the woman’s accounts and robbed her blind?
    No…surely he wouldn’t have done that.
    But the next fifty messages were variations of that call. Money stolen. Resort land not a resort, just desert. Dreams and hopes for their future disintegrated. They’d have to declare bankruptcy.
    Sweet Merna Folkerton, at seventy-six, was going to have to move in with her ninety-three year old mother, and they would be living on social security. And Bitsy Rowenall had saved for new teeth, but now that would have to wait.
    God…Marci scrolled through the rest, looking for Paul’s name, but there was nothing from him.
    Furious, she punched his number, but the machine automatically rolled to voice mail. Either he wasn’t answering or he’d ditched his cell phone.
    Probably so the cops couldn’t track him down.
    Guilt mushroomed inside her as the sound of all the distraught voices from her message machine echoed in her head. Paul had destroyed these people’s lives.
    And Kim’s future at the center – that could be ruined too.
    It wasn’t just Paul. You helped him.
    Bile rose to her throat as she remembered following him around like a little puppy dog. Smiling and patting her friends’ hands as he charmed them with the slide show.
    She might not have known that he was selling them a crock, but she had by way of her own stupidity been his accomplice.
    She was such a fool.  When would she ever learn that men couldn’t be trusted? At least not the ones who were attracted to her .
    Tears blurred her eyes, but she blinked them back then looked down at the tattered dress. Hating it now, she peeled it off, then grabbed the scissors from the medicine cabinet and began to hack it up.
    Whack, whack, whack. She cut and tore until it was nothing but a pile of lace and crinoline and satin.
    Then she climbed into the shower and scrubbed her skin and hair until she felt raw. She had to get the stench of jail off of her.
    But she’d never get the stench of what she’d done from her conscience.
    She just hoped Paul called her and agreed to meet her, so she could rip him apart piece by piece like she had her wedding dress.
     
    *~*~*~*
     
    Cade tapped his foot and paced while he waited on Marci. She was his best lead now, and he had to watch her whether he liked it or not.
    Of course, she wouldn’t like it.
    He heard the phone ring from inside the bathroom, then the water kick off.  Forensics had already told him she’d received dozens of calls from irate, upset victims.
    The tracer they’d put on her phone was recording all her calls, so he strode to the front window and looked outside while he listened.
    “Paul,” Marci said in a tiny voice. “Is that you?”
    “Yes, baby, I’m here.”
    Marci cleared her throat. “What’s going on, Paul? Where are you?”
    “I’m sorry I ran like that, babe, but I couldn’t go