The Bobcat's Tate (23 page)

“When he killed Portia, why didn’t he just leave town?”

“I think because it would have looked too suspicious. He figured he’d stick around, let things cool off, steal more jewelry, and then leave town when the time was right.” He shook his head sadly. “His mother’s mind pretty much went when we tried to talk to her about it. She’s got no living family. She refuses to accept that this man isn’t her son.”

“Ugh. He flirted with me
. It makes me want to puke” Lainey shuddered. She had no doubt in her mind that if she’d said yes, Hamilton would have – ugh, no. She couldn’t bear to think about it.

“It makes me want to dig up his remains and kill
him again,” Tate growled.

“
Oooh,” Lainey cooed at him. “You are such a jealous cavewolf. It’s the sexiest thing in the world. Do it some more.”

The day of Loch and Ginger’s wedding

Lainey kept glancing nervously at the sky.

“What are you doing?” Tate asked.

“Checking for dark clouds,” she said.

He squeezed her hand. 
“The dark cloud is gone. Everything is going to be perfect. Didn’t we wake up to good news?”

“We did,” she admitted
. Donny’s lawyer had contacted the district attorney’s office and worked out a quick deal. House arrest, no jail time for her brother, and he could go to his job during the day. Then five years of probation.

It was a
warm, glorious day. Mother Nature had blessed them with perfect weather; it was warm but not too hot, and the sun bathed the assembled group in glorious, golden light.

Loch, handsome and smiling in his tuxedo, had walked up the aisle and was standing at the pagoda, waiting for his beautiful bride
. Hundreds of people sat in folding chairs on either side of a pathway of pink and white rose petals which led to the pagoda, which was decked with pink and white roses.

Frank Sinclair sat next to Megan, holding her hand
. None of the other Sinclairs were in attendance. Sadly, they were in Morgan County, planning Portia’s funeral. They also knew that Aurora’s vandalism had been exposed, and they were no longer welcome in Tate’s or Loch’s pack territories, ever.

Ginger’s mother sat in the front row
on the left, blubbering noisily into a handkerchief. Sitting next to her were Ginger’s three younger sisters, all of them curvy, pretty and strongly resembling Ginger.

Tate and
Lainey sat with his family on the right side of the aisle. Felix, unbearably cute in a tuxedo, leaned on Lainey’s arm.

As Ginger walked up the aisle, her father’s arm linked through hers,
Lainey found herself tensing up, watching every single step, praying that nothing else would go wrong.  Ginger, wrapped in a frothy confection of white, looked radiant, with a wreath of pink and white roses on her head, setting off her glorious curls. Not surprisingly, she’d opted not to wear the tiara.

With every step that she took towards the pagoda,
Lainey’s muscles clenched more and more, and she found she was holding her breath.

Would Ginger make it? Was the dark cloud finally lifted?

Ginger’s father let go of her arm, and she climbed the steps to the pagoda and turned to face her beamed husband-to-be, and
Lainey let out her breath and slumped against Tate in relief.

The pastor turned towards the crowd and cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved…” he began.

THE END

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