Hitched

“She’s forty-eight years old but doesn’t look it. She’s cute, or at least I used to think she was cute. She’s petite, with light brown hair, and big green eyes. I always called her a sparrow with a good figure.”

Interesting description, Regan thought. But it sounds like Shauna. “Do you have a description of the guy?”

“All I heard was that he was young, dark, and handsome,” Horace laughed. “The opposite of me. I’m just glad that he’s not rich! The two of them supposedly wander around like a couple of gypsies.”

As Regan processed this information, she could hear a woman in the background assuring Horace that he was as handsome as could be.

“Where are you calling from?” Regan asked.

“We live in northern Texas.”

Not that far from Santa Fe, Regan thought. “The Shauna I met said she didn’t have family.”

Horace groaned. “She used that line on people when she wanted to gain their sympathy. For the stupidest things. Let me tell you something, she’s bad news. A real trickster. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure if I should call because she doesn’t seem like the type to bother with a fancy gown for her wedding. But I had to. If it’s her, I want my divorce.”

Regan’s pulse quickened, but she kept her cool. “Horace, let me take your number. I’ll find out what I can and get back to you.”

When Regan hung up, Dana looked up at her questioningly. “I’ll check into this,” Regan said diplomatically. The last thing she wanted to do was slander Shauna to a news producer. “Please keep me posted about any other calls.”

Dana nodded. “Keep us in the loop, too. We’d like to follow this story.”

“Sure thing,” Regan promised.

But when Regan and Jack were on their way out, she turned to him. “Jack, let’s pay a visit to Fifth Avenue. Fast. If Shauna is this guy’s wife and she’s heard her name’s out there in the newspaper and on television, there’s no telling what she and her fiancé might pull on the Neys. It’s obvious they’re very wealthy and would be a perfect target for a couple of crooks.”

When they got in Jack’s car, he turned on his siren. They sped across town to Madison Avenue, made a left, and headed uptown.

Shauna pressed the button for the elevator. “This place was nice while it lasted,” she said to Tyler in a low tone.

The door opened and Walter, the elevator operator, looked at them with surprise. “Leaving us?” he asked.

“We’re taking a couple days away. Arnold and Pamela could probably use a break,” Shauna said with a laugh. Sweetly she asked, “Could you let them know downstairs we’d like a cab?”

“Of course,” Walter replied solemnly as he pressed the taxi signal. “I saw your name in the paper today, Ms. Nickles.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m sorry about what happened to your wedding dress.”

“Me, too,” Shauna said. “It’s just terrible what those thieves did.”

“It certainly is,” Tyler agreed.

The door opened at the ground floor, and Shauna and Tyler hurried off.

Arnold and Pamela grabbed a cab in front of the church and gave the driver their address.

“What’s the matter?” Arnold asked.

“You know how sometimes you just get a feeling that something is terribly wrong? That you’ve been so stupid?” Pamela asked, fa

Arnold looked into her eyes. “Do you mean about Shauna and Tyler?”

“Yes,” Pamela gasped.

“I hope they haven’t taken us for a couple of old fools.”

Pamela started to cry.

Regan and Jack turned the corner onto Fifth Avenue as Shauna and Tyler were about to get into a cab.

“There they are!” Regan cried. “They’re leaving.”

“What are you going to do?” Jack asked.

“I’ll just talk to them for a minute.” Regan jumped out. “Shauna!” she called and hurried over as the doorman finished loading their suitcases into the trunk of the taxi. Shauna had a velour floral bag thrown over her shoulder that looked like it was filled to capacity. It also didn’t look like her style.

Shauna turned. The expression on her face was not nearly as happy as it had been the day before.

“I’d like to talk to you,” Regan said as she approached her.

“I can’t right now. We have a plane to catch.” Shauna said impatiently.

Tyler was on the other side of the cab, with the door open.

“It’ll just take a minute,” Regan said.

“We don’t have a minute!” Tyler said, trying to sound in control. “We’re very late already.”

Another taxi pulled up. Pamela started to get out. She was screaming, “That’s my bag!” Regan’s head turned for a split second. In that moment, Tyler and Shauna took off. They ran across Fifth Avenue toward Central Park.

Regan ran after them. Jack jumped out of his car and crossed Fifth Avenue in a flash. They both hoisted themselves over the low stone wall that bordered the park and resumed their chase.

Jack ran ahead in hot pursuit of Tyler while Regan raced after Shauna.

She’s a fast ru

People out for a Sunday morning in the park were astonished to see the wild chase of Shauna and Tyler happening right before their eyes. Many scurried away in fear, others took out their cameras.

With a burst of speed, Regan ran across the road full of bicyclists and joggers, caught up with Shauna, threw her arms around her from behind, and they both stumbled to the ground. Regan firmly placed her knee on Shauna’s back. Panting, she grabbed the bag that had fallen to the ground and unzipped it.

It was filled with magnificent sparkling jewelry.

“Were you going to sell this on the street in Santa Fe?” Regan asked sarcastically.

Shauna didn’t answer.

“Regan!” Jack called. He was approaching fast with two police officers. “We’ve got the groom. Now we have a pair of bracelets for the bride.”

“Allow me,” Regan said, as she took the handcuffs from Jack and snapped them on Shauna’s tiny wrists.

40

When Joyce started to regain consciousness, it didn’t take long for her to realize she was not at home sweet home. It wasn’t a bad dream-she was in the same dingy, creepy room she’d found herself in the night before. And she felt as if she’d been asleep for a very long time.

The old lady was sitting in a chair, her head nodding, her hands folded. She was wearing a pair of old black pants covered with animal hair, sneakers, and a brown ratty cardigan. Dogs were stretched out everywhere.

Joyce had a tremendous headache and she was thirsty. She tried to sit up, but the pain across her forehead got worse. I feel so weak, she thought, as she lay back down. One of the dogs lying at her feet woofed halfheartedly then put his head back down.

The old lady’s eyes flew open. She hoisted herself out of the chair and moved toward Joyce.

Joyce felt herself shrink back.

“Good morning,” the woman rasped. “I’m so glad you’re awake! But you had a good night’s rest. That’s so important. Now we can talk. My name is Hattie.”

“I’m Joyce.”

“I’m going to take good care of you. You got some lump there on your forehead. It’s what they call an egg!” Hattie started to cackle, waving her hands with glee. “My dogs, Porgy, Ginger, Pang, and Thor, have been worried about you. You were out cold last night. They all wanted to lick your face when you fell down the steps. Now how about breakfast?”

“My head hurts. I’d better get home.”

Hattie’s face turned dark. “Absolutely not! You have to let me nurse you back to health! My best friend just died. I should have helped her get better. I should have! Now I have to help you.”