“Deputy, I’m not the person you think I am.” Jeannie Hall tried to hold her anger in check. “Let me out of here, this instant.”
“Ma’am, we had an all-point bulletin to pick you up for possible domestic terrorism.” The deputy glanced up from his desk to where she gripped the bars. “I’m doing my job. Following procedures. We take these things seriously with the rise of homegrown terrorists.”
“Do I look like a terrorist?” Her voice had reached the screech level as she held up the tulle bottom of her beaded dress. “Which terrorists wear a wedding dress?” Jeannie hoped to convince the stubborn man, but so far he’d been as unmoving as a brick wall. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the desk. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she’d miss her own wedding. Jeannie stomped her foot. The deputy didn’t even flinch, but her foot throbbed. She untangled the long veil from the four-inch heel of her shoe and yanked the offending lace concoction off her head.
The small-town police station reminded her of the classic-The Andy Griffith Show. She half expected Aunt Bea to show up with dinner or Opie to run in with a fishing pole in hand. If only this were a TV sitcom. The entire station had a damp smell but remained cool even in the Texas heat. She blew an errant blonde curl off her face.
“I have to follow orders. Many recent attacks weren’t caught in time because the person didn’t appear to be a killer. We got the call about you and an all-points bulletin including your car. Just so happened, I pulled you over.” This time he didn’t even glance up at her when he responded. He kept his focus on the computer screen in front of him. Clicking and clacking, the deputy continued to enter information.
How can I convince him? Trying for honey rather than vinegar, she changed her tone and forced a smile, piling on her sweetest expression. “Look, Deputy…what’s your name?”
“Deputy Walker, ma’am.”
“Do you have a first name, Deputy Walker?”
“Course. It’s Hank.”
“Hello, Hank. Nice to meet you.” She slid an arm through the bars and stretched her hand out, but Hank only glanced at it. Pulling it back, she continued. “I’m Jeannie Hall. I’m sorry there’s been a mix-up. I’m due to be married in fifteen minutes at the Eastlake Chapel, just outside of town. If you’ll let me call my fiancé, I’m sure we can clear this up.” She beamed at him.
“You do get one call, but we have to book you first, and I’m waiting on someone higher up to weigh in since this is a homeland security issue. We haven’t had a terrorist in Hunt before.”
Exasperated, her voice became clipped. She put her hands on her hips. “So, how long will that take?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, ma’am. You might as well get comfortable.”
“Will you please notify my fiancé about the delay? I don’t want him to worry or think I stood him up. His name is Clinton Marshall. Please.” Jeannie threw in the extra please, hoping to sway the stubborn deputy into action.
He walked over to the cell. She had his attention at last. She gripped the bars tightly so as not to reach out and grab him, forcing him to free her. Maybe being nice is working.
“Whooeee.” He whistled. “Isn’t he the actor from that zombie show? I watched the first season but gave up when everyone ended up being killed off. I hear he’s been nominated for an Emmy or something.”
Glad to finally have him interested, she hoped the news about her fiancé would convince him he had the wrong person. “Yes, Clinton’s nomination was exciting. We’re hoping he’ll win. My fiancé is expecting me at the Eastlake Chapel. He’ll be devastated if I’m late. We tried to keep our wedding hush-hush from the fans, but he hired a PR team to cover it for a big spread in Texas Magazine. I know he’d be really appreciative if you let him know.”
“I looked over your file. You’re from Kerrville, Texas. That’s only as far as a hen flies. Too bad you were here when we got the report. Do you know the sheriff in town? Kane and his wife are friends of mine. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years of police business. His wife, Lilibet, makes the best sandwiches. What I wouldn’t give for a loved one to stop by each day with a homemade lunch for me.” He chuckled then blushed.
His dimples were a game changer and set her heart to fluttering. When he was not so serious, his deep-brown eyes sparkled and lit up his face, making him more attractive and maybe a little dangerous. Just the kind of guy she’d always fallen for. Stop. Don’t go there. She was about to be married. Noticing another man was out of the question. “I’m sorry, Hank. I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting the sheriff or his wife. Everyone in town says wonderful things about them, though.”
“That’s okay.” Hank tugged his hat off and ran a hand through his wavy blond locks.
Is his hair as soft as it looks? She bit her lip to keep from asking, merely nodding as he continued.
“Kerrville is larger than Hunt. Probably can’t know everyone. So, how did you meet Mr. Hollywood?”
She licked her lips then lifted her chin. Clinton Marshall, my fiancé. Hollywood’s Heartthrob. She sighed. “He came into my jewelry store when the show was in town filming. He’d been looking for a gift to thank his assistant for some extra work she’d done.” She paused and glanced up at the ceiling. “I suppose you could say it was love at first sight. Within a half hour, he’d bought her a beautiful bracelet and asked me out. That was six months ago, and we’ve been dating ever since.”
The deputy muttered something under his breath.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.” She knew many people didn’t believe in love at first sight, but with Clinton, it had truly happened. They were a wonderful pair, both sharing a love of classic movies and gardening. She’d never been happier than when she was with him.
“I said…lucky man.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Jeannie wondered what he’d really said. “Hank, surely you can see I’m not a terrorist but simply a woman in love on the way to her wedding. Please let me go.” Time is running out. What might happen if she didn’t show up or at least let him know?
The deputy looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I have to follow protocol. I can’t break the rules for anyone.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “For what it’s worth, I believe you. But it makes me wonder…who set you up. Obviously, someone reported you. Why?”
Tears filled Jeannie’s eyes. “I don’t know.” She slumped down on the bench in the cell and wept silently.
Deputy Hank Walker returned to his desk and went back to typing on his computer, turning his back on her.
***
Across town at Eastlake Chapel…
Clinton Marshall paced in the minister’s office. The wedding was set to begin in a few minutes, but there wasn’t a sign of his bride. His assistant, Susan, had been ringing Jeannie’s cell for the last hour without an answer. The three voicemails he’d left, in addition to Susan’s five, all had gone unanswered.
Clinton strode to the full-length mirror, straightened his bow tie, and adjusted the lapels on his designer black tuxedo. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Who stood up a Hollywood star on his wedding day? While, he wasn’t “in love” with Jeannie, Clinton felt they’d be a good team. She’d look amazing on his arm at the premieres. Her blonde all-American looks complemented his boy-next-door appearance. They’d be Ken and Barbie come to life, kicking those Kardashians to the curb.
Besides, Jeannie wasn’t feisty or spirited, something which turned him off. He enjoyed a levelheaded woman who could talk about plants and old-time movie stars. While many friends found such things boring, he considered them fascinating and thrilling after a long day of filming apocalyptic horrors.
“Any word yet?” he hollered at his assistant who stood in the hallway.
“No. Still no answer.” She hightailed it over and stood toe-to-toe with him. “What are we going to do? We leaked your wedding to the press and have our PR person here today.” Susan twisted her hands around and around.
Clinton turned away and paced. “I need a wife. It won’t do to have America’s Heartthrob jilted. I can imagine the fallout. The press would run wild… Walker Brideless or Left at the Altar.” He rubbed his chin. “Nope. Simply will not do.”
Susan tugged on his arm. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “I have an idea. What about if we get married? You and me. We can spin it as if we fell in love on the job and couldn’t live without each other.”
“Hmmm…” Clinton pondered her words. “Go on.”
“Since we’ve been hush-hush about your recent dates with Jeannie, the press only knows you were dating someone and keeping it a secret. Even your recent visit to her store could be used in our tale. You found my wedding ring, and she was helping you with the custom order. You planned the wedding yourself and surprised me with the proposal when I arrived. A very romantic gesture from the age of the golden cinema.”
Clinton rubbed his chin. “This could work. Let me see you.” He twirled his hand then studied his assistant as she spun around. Susan’s hair was a light brown, which curled around her shoulders, not the blonde of Jeannie’s. However, it was also not one of those dreadful pixie cuts. Shudder. She was about half a foot shorter than he was; the top of her head barely reached his nose. Maybe with some heels, she’ll be a better height. Her figure was more skeletal than Jeannie’s, as if she didn’t eat enough. A push-up bra and some padding could help there. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. “You aren’t the Barbie type, like Jeannie. However, this way, no one would know what really happened. The word jilted will be struck from our vocabulary.”
Clinton glanced again at his assistant. “There’s no way, though, you are getting married in a blue tea-length dress. It must be a white wedding dress, the best there is.” He threw his hands up and paced the floor. “What can we do? Where will we find a dress that fits on such short notice?”
Susan squeezed his arm. “I’ve got it taken care of. I ordered an exact replica of Jeannie’s dress in my size and brought it with me. And I just happen to have a marriage license with our names on it.” She lifted her face and gazed into his eyes. “I never hoped or dreamed I’d need it. See, brains and beauty.”
He sighed. “At least you’ll look the part.” Clinton placed a kiss on Susan’s cheek. “Now, go. Rush and get ready. We can be fashionably late for the ceremony, but only a little. Our audience mustn’t be kept waiting.” He shoved her toward the door. “I’ll speak to the minister about the change in names and please…do something about your makeup and hair. Call someone in if you need to. You must look at least half as spectacular as I do.”
He watched Susan leave the room then went back over to the mirror. He stared at his reflection and practiced his speech and wave. Thank you. I’m so humbled to receive this award. It’s wonderful to be recognized by my peers for my acting. Thank you, once again.