Framed For Love Read online

  This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, certain characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Framed for Love: Volume 2 of the Deal for Love series

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by White Star Press

  P.O. Box 353

  American Fork, Utah 84003

  Cover and ebook design by ePubMasters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights.

  ISBN: 978-1-939203-14-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  First electronic release 2010

  This 4th edition (2012) was revised by the author and is significantly different from the previous print and electronic editions.

  A Missing Groom, A Threatening Note, Another Page-Turning Adventure

  Three months have passed since Cassi Mason and Jared Landine helped the FBI expose a criminal mastermind. Along the way, they fell in love, and now Jared has moved to San Diego to be near Cassi. But four days before their wedding, Jared disappears.

  Frantic to discover what happened, Cassi plunges into a world of danger and intrigue. Can she find Jared before it's too late?

  Meanwhile, Laranda Garrettson is safely in a prison hospital, recuperating from a gunshot wound that paralyzed her from the waist down. Her body may be damaged, but her brilliant and devious mind is far from beaten.

  Big Tommy, an organized crime boss, is also on the move. In a stunning turn of events, his evil plans threaten to turn Cassi's world upside down.

  In her heart-stopping sequel to A Bid for Love, best-selling novelist Rachel Ann Nunes has created a fast-paced, intensely romantic thriller that will keep you guessing at every turn.

  A high-energy story for anyone who enjoys a great Christian mystery peppered with plenty of romance.

  To all my loyal readers who keep asking,

  “What happens next?”

  CHAPTER ONE

  JARED’S CELL PHONE RANG, BUT for the ninth time that day there was no answer. Cassi Mason threw her phone into her purse and returned to the main part of the gallery where her boss, Linden Johansen, was carefully hanging a painting. As he paused in his work and stared at her flushed face, she willed herself to be calm.

  “He’s not home,” she said. “I don’t get it. Four days before we get married. Three if you don’t count that Saturday morning—less than seventy-two hours! And he disappears. Where can he be? I know he didn’t have any auctions or appointments.”

  “I’m sure he’s just out getting last-minute things done,” Linden threw his hammer onto the supply cart and touched her arm. “Don’t fret so.”

  Cassi forced a laugh at his choice of words. “Linden, I’m not fretting. It’s just that he missed his final fitting for the tux, and there’s not much time left.”

  “Your cogency leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Cogency? Linden! I don’t know if I like this extend-your-vocabulary class you’re taking. What does that even mean?”

  “Something about compelling or convincing—I’m not sure exactly, but whatever it means, you aren’t doing it. What you are doing is fretting. And you have to stop. If Jared needs some pants, I can lend him some. I bought a tux last year for my step-cousin’s daughter’s wedding. Jared’s about my size.”

  Cassi hugged her friend and mentor, bringing a flush to his face. “Oh, Linden, it has to match with everything else. But thanks anyway. You’re the best.” In fact, with her own parents living several states away, he was becoming like a father to her.

  “Humph! Just for that, I’m not going to show you that secret tunnel in my new mansion after all. And it’s magnificent.”

  “So you’ve told me. But I still don’t see why you need such a big house and a secret tunnel.”

  “It might come in handy with all the spy work I’ve been doing.” Linden gave her a grin. “Besides, a lot of these older mansions have them. It’s normal.”

  “Forget about your tunnel,” she said lightly. “Just be glad I’m finally getting married. I’m getting old.”

  Linden snorted. “Twenty-nine isn’t old. When you get to be sixty like me, then we’ll talk—if I’m still around.”

  Cassi laughed as he intended, but her mind was on Jared. Where was he? She had waited so many years for him to come into her life. She had almost lost him once, and now this. Had he changed his mind? Self-doubt ate at her.

  “Will you listen to me?” Linden said, his narrow face tightening in concern. “I told you, he’ll show up. He’d be crazy not to.”

  “You’re right.” Cassi kissed his cheek. “Thanks. I think I’ll just go home and work on my last-minute list. I promised Jared I’d clean out the closets so he’d have some room when he moved in.”

  As she left the gallery, a tingle formed in her stomach and worked its way into her throat. Today was Wednesday, and on Saturday she and Jared would be married! Could it really be true? If he felt half as nervous as she did, it was no wonder he was keeping busy.

  He hasn’t disappeared, she thought. He’s just plain scared.

  She drove to her small home in the suburbs of San Diego, mentally deciding what items from her closets would end up in the pile for charity and what she would simply throw away. There had never been any need before to conserve space, but with Jared moving in . . . and perhaps later they would have a child. Cassi smiled at her thoughts.

  Once at the house, she couldn’t park in the garage because it was filled with boxes from Jared’s apartment in New York. For nearly three months they had sat there, growing dusty, but tomorrow Jared planned to start moving them inside.

  Cassi slid from the car, adjusting her gray skirt and retrieving her matching fitted jacket from the passenger seat. She glanced up and down the street to make sure Jared’s new red Camry was nowhere in sight. He had a key to the house, so it was possible he had come over to make her dinner—he knew she hated to cook.

  The car was nowhere in sight. “Looks like it’s microwave dinner time,” she said.

  The instant Cassi walked through the door, she felt something wasn’t right. What was it? Her heart began an all-too-familiar pounding. This was how she had felt three months ago when she and Jared had captured would-be thieves and exposed Jared’s boss, Laranda Garrettson, as a smuggler.

  “Jared?” she called.

  There was no answer.

  “This isn’t funny! Jared?”

  Silence.

  She walked into the living room and scanned its contents. Nothing was where it had been when she left this morning. The couches had been moved. Vases and knickknacks had traded places. Even the books had been taken from the shelves and lined up on the floor. The disarray wasn’t messy, but deliberate, methodical.

  Cassi’s breath came more quickly. Who had been here? Jared? Was he moving his things in now?

  She fumbled through her purse for her cell phone. She had it on vibrate and maybe he’d left a message while she’d been driving home. She almost smiled when she saw someone had called. Without checking the number, she punched to hear the voice message. Be Jared, she pleaded silently.

  She heard beeps and then, “Cassi, this is Renae. Please, please, call me when you get a minute. I really need to talk to you.”

  Cassi hardy heard the words through her disappointment. She tossed the phone and her suit jacket onto the sofa an
d with a shaky hand picked up a flowered vase from its stand near the door, holding it in front of her to use as a weapon if necessary. The long bunches of dried flowers inside the vase fell to the carpet.

  In the kitchen she found the same disorder, but this time damage had been done, as though someone had grown careless. The cupboards and drawers gaped open, piles of broken dishes lay on the counter top, silverware spread across the table, and her clean linens were strewn across the ceramic tile.

  Jared didn’t do this.

  She knew exactly what she should do: run and call for help. But a feeling of defilement urged her deeper into the house. How dare someone violate her privacy! How dare they touch and ruin her things!

  Still clutching the vase, she quietly crept through the rest of the house. The living room, the bathroom, the spare bedroom, the library—everywhere she met the same terrible disorder. In the master bedroom, the devastation was the worst. Everything in the closets and drawers had been scattered around the room as though by children in unsupervised play. Sheets had been ripped, blankets thrown onto the floor. Her bra hung from a hook that had once supported the curtains. The horrific focal point of the room was the waterbed, with her long kitchen knife stabbed into the middle. A white piece of paper floated in the leaking water.

  Cassi peeked into the master bathroom to make sure she was alone. She was too scared to cry and too weak to run. Feeling compelled, she approached the bed, keeping an eye on the door to the hall. What did the note say?

  The vase in her hands became suddenly heavy, and she set it gently on top of the wrinkled curtains by the bed. As she retrieved the white paper, it tore in her hands, and she had to lay it, piece by soggy piece, on the dresser to read what it said:

  We know you have it, Landine. We want it now.

  Landine. Jared? This note was meant for Jared!

  Cassi’s knees buckled, but she caught herself by leaning on the dresser for support.

  Questions assaulted her. What did Jared have? Why were they looking for it here? What was going on? And most importantly, where was Jared?

  There were no answers on the paper or in the horrible mess of her house. With a hand to her mouth, Cassi darted out of the bedroom, through the house, and out the door. She was in the car and driving before she even realized she had picked up her car keys.

  Where should I go?

  Jared’s. She had to find and warn him.

  Of what? What has Jared stumbled onto now?

  Cassi felt angry and afraid. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, but she scarcely noticed.

  And why didn’t he tell me! her heart screamed in angry protest.

  By the time she reached Jared’s studio apartment, three blocks away, her anger had calmed. She remembered Jared’s face, his sandy blond hair, the look in his blue eyes when he held her. He loves me, she thought, and I have to trust him.

  There was no answer at Jared’s door, so she used the key he had given her. She entered his small studio apartment cautiously, poised for flight, but it took only minutes to determine that she was alone. At least Jared wasn’t lying on the floor unconscious—or worse.

  Cassi scanned the room, expecting to find the same terrible disaster she had found at her house. She figured that whoever had been at her place would have come here first, and when they hadn’t found what they were looking for, they must have believed that Jared had left the object with her. By ransacking her house, they had hoped to get lucky.

  But Cassi found nothing out of place in Jared’s apartment. In the kitchen, the dishes were washed, the bed was freshly made, and the floor vacuumed. In fact, everything seemed neater than she remembered it, as though Jared had recently finished cleaning. Folded packing boxes lined the wall, but other than this there was no sign the occupant was soon moving.

  She paced the carpet, talking aloud to herself. “Why wouldn’t they come here first? I don’t understand.” She thought a moment more. “Let’s see . . . there’s something wrong with this apartment. It’s so clean. That’s not so odd, though. Jared likes vacuuming. And he told me he normally picks up before he goes to bed—” Cassi glanced at the bed. “The bed’s made, so either he cleaned up after he made the bed this morning, or he cleaned up last night before going to bed and then went out for some reason, and didn’t return.”

  The jumble of thoughts rushed on, and Cassi tried to clear her head of them. With each moment, she grew increasingly uneasy. What bothered her most was that her apartment had been noticeably searched, while Jared’s had not. Of course if Jared’s apartment had been searched by professionals, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell. But then why leave the mess at her apartment? To scare her? To scare Jared into giving up whatever it was they wanted?

  Maybe. He would try to protect her.

  “You’ve read too many novels,” she said to the empty room, then settled on the couch to wait for Jared. He had to be back soon.

  A faint, regular ticking penetrated her thoughts. She glanced around but could see no clock.

  Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

  Finally she bounced up from the couch and began to search in drawers, cupboards, and cubbyholes. Where was that ticking coming from?

  A bomb! she thought.

  Ridiculous.

  Her search pace increased. When she found a large-faced Mickey Mouse clock in the top drawer of the bulky nightstand by Jared’s bed, she sighed with relief. Replacing the smiling timepiece, she slumped to the bed and let her head sink into her hands. After a while, she turned her head and studied the nightstand.

  It was an heirloom from Jared’s great-grandfather, made by his own hands. She had teased him about getting rid of it when they had moved his furniture into the apartment. “It’s pretty big,” she had said. “I don’t know if it’ll fit in my room.”

  He laughed. “It is rather wide, but it’s the only thing I have of my great-grandfather. He made more furniture, but I got to pick only one piece. Each of us got one when my grandma died. It was her father who made them.” He fingered the smooth grain on the nightstand. “This was the smallest piece.”

  “Your sisters got to pick first, eh?” Cassi said. Jared had four sisters and one brother.

  “Actually, I drew the longest straw to pick first,” Jared said. “No one could understand why I passed up the bed frame or the china cabinet. They were the real beauties.”

  With Jared watching her, Cassi had stepped back and taken another look at the nightstand. It was made of oak and looked solid, but was rather plain overall. Still, Jared shared her profession as an art buyer, and he should know value when he saw it. What was she missing? “Well, why did you pick it?” she’d asked finally.

  Jared grinned and winked at her. “Because there’s a secret to it. But I’m not telling what. No one knows but me. Not even my grandmother knew. You’ll have to discover it for yourself.”

  “Come on, tell me.” She tried to punch him.

  He danced out of her way. “Nope. It’ll tell you itself one day.”

  She caught up to him, but before she could say anything, he held her close and kissed her.

  In the passion of the moment, she had completely forgotten the nightstand.

  Until now.

  Did it hold some clue to Jared’s disappearance? It seemed unlikely, and yet . . .

  I have nothing better to do, she reasoned silently. She was actually relieved not to think about what had happened in her house and the police report she would have to fill out. That could wait.

  Cassi slid to her knees and opened the drawer. The Mickey clock smiled at her blankly. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. She put a hand inside the drawer and felt around, then tested the thickness of the drawer bottom. No hidden compartment there, no letter taped to the underside, nothing to tell her this was anything other than an ordinary homemade nightstand.

  There was another drawer and a larger cupboard below to search, but they were equally unrevealing. Cassi closed the cupboard and contemplated the nightsta
nd again. With effort, she pulled it out from the bed and examined its back and sides. Still nothing. Could the answer be on the bottom? But how could she check? It was much too heavy to turn over, and she might damage it while trying.

  She re-opened one of the drawers, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Just maybe,” she said. With a gentle tug, the drawer came loose and she held it up against the side of the nightstand. Sure enough, it was three inches shorter than the stand itself. Cassi placed the drawer on Jared’s bed, removed the other drawer, and opened the cupboard door underneath.

  “There’s no opening in the back, so it has to be inside,” she said. It felt comforting to hear a voice in the room, even if it was only her own.

  On the left, near the back of the wooden side support for the second drawer, Cassi found a tiny, flat hook. If she hadn’t been aware that there was something different about the nightstand, and therefore looking carefully, she would have never found it at all. She flipped it over, and the top part of the back panel swung open. “Ah-hah!” she exclaimed.

  Cassi eagerly delved into the depths of the hidden space, but her hand met only wood and cobwebs. Stifling a shudder, she inched her hand down toward the lower part, her arm scraping against the wood. Her fingers hit something and she drew it out—a thick pile of letters, yellow with age. Probably letters between Jared’s great-grandparents, Cassi thought, reading the names. What a treasure!

  A vision came to her of Jared as a little boy, discovering this secret. His sparkling blue eyes would have been distinctive, even then. She could hear his delighted laugh, his indecision about whether or not to keep the find to himself.

  Was there more? She felt again and heard a clanging noise. Keys!

  She drew them out and stared, recognizing them at once. They were Jared’s. “Why on earth did he put them here?”

  An extra set? No, her house key was on the ring, the shiny new copy she had made for him only a few weeks before. Why had he put them where no one would ever find them except for himself and perhaps her—if she even chose to look? Why would she look? Unless . . . unless Jared turned up missing.