by Beverly Long
He was pretty confident that Precco and Nadia both had a screw loose. And given that they both had guns, that was a very bad thing. With effort, he focused his gaze on the blond man. Needed to assess what kind of threat he was. “So, you finally show your face?”
The man showed no reaction. But Precco smiled. “Pardon my manners,” he said. He waved in the direction of the blond-haired man. “This is Simon, Nadia’s brother. I think he and Ms. North have had the pleasure.”
“I don’t think we’ve actually met,” Megan said, her voice tight.
“I heard that the snake was particularly effective,” the man said. His accent matched his sister’s. “I wish I could have seen it. Had to be content hearing the story secondhand from that stupid woman at the desk.”
“You got the room number from her?” Seth asked.
“People will do most anything for a hundred bucks,” Precco said. “Simon is very good with computers,” he added. “If it’s any comfort, he said your security at your company is very good. Fortunately for us, your assistant, Ms. O’Day, does some work at home. She needs to upgrade.”
It explained how they’d known Megan’s travel schedule and hotel plans.
“You’re all chickens,” Megan said dismissively. “And bullies.”
Seth appreciated her spunk but now wasn’t the time to irritate any of them into doing something stupid. “What do you want?” he asked. It was never a good idea to negotiate with a nut but there weren’t a lot of good alternatives right now. He was going to pass out, Abigail was going to have a baby and Megan would be left to deal with this alone. Like so many times before.
Not on his watch.
“I’m not sure,” Precco admitted. “It’s a bit of a mess that we’ve contributed to, certainly, but you,” he said, pointing at Megan, “really started it all when you lied about wanting to keep your tenants. And then you pushed the tea shop right out the door, without a second thought. This might be a plaything for you but it’s our lives, our livelihood.”
“I didn’t do that,” Megan said. “They didn’t want to renew their lease.”
“That’s not true,” Nadia said, her voice shrill. “We were going to be partners. They had access to markets in countries that we did not. It would have been a good situation for both of us. I talked to them all the time about us being partners.”
Things clicked in place for Seth. Malcomb Vitron had said to follow the money. Which would lead one to believe that Stout Precco and his antiques business might be making money in unconventional ways. Illegal ways. Maybe drugs if it was something the tea shop could have helped with.
Megan had said the tea shop gave no explanation. He had a feeling that if Nadia Vitron was talking to them all the time, that in itself would be reason enough to want to avoid renewing their lease. But they couldn’t necessarily tell Megan that without pointing a finger at Nadia or Precco. Maybe they’d witnessed a little bit of their crazy and decided that it was better just to get away, as far away as they could. They’d told Nadia and Precco that Megan had pushed them out in order to pave the way for a painless exit.
“You showed your hand when you wouldn’t give us the ten-year lease,” Precco said.
“I...I couldn’t commit to that. But I wasn’t pushing you out.”
“What were you doing in here tonight?” Seth asked. “Before we came back.”
“We were waiting on the third floor for everyone to leave. We had keys to this room because the locks haven’t been changed.” Precco paused. Then laughed. “You look confused, Ms. North. You clearly don’t know much about the building that you bought. When I realized that your contractors, who, by the way, were loud and annoying and horrible to have in the building, didn’t replace the false ceiling in your space, I just knew what we needed to do.” He held up a hand, motioning for Simon to do something.
What he did surprised the hell out of Seth. He started rolling back the rug. When he had about a third of the rug pulled back, he stopped, squatted and opened a square door in the floor. And Seth knew immediately what it was. Rico Metez had a very similar door in the floor of his Colorado cabin that allowed him to get to his basement without going outside. Rico’s had a drop-down ladder that folded out once the trapdoor was removed.
It took just a minute to realize that this was much less sophisticated. No ladder. Just a thick rope that Simon was gathering up. When it was in his hands, Seth guessed it to be at least fifteen or twenty feet.
“There are three of these,” Precco said, motioning around the room. “When this place was a dance studio, the dancers would shimmy down and back up—it was part of their strength training routine. Simon is not a dancer but he’s in good enough shape that he could have gotten down, wrecked your store and gotten back up in no time. It was really the perfect crime.”
Not really, thought Seth. It wouldn’t have taken a good cop that long to figure out that the intruder had to have come from above if there were no visible signs of entry anywhere else. Once they’d have started looking, they’d have found the trapdoors. But consistent with Precco’s and Nadia’s other actions, they didn’t really think things through the whole way.
“What were you hoping to do by terrorizing me?” Megan asked.
“You should be grateful that was all I was doing,” Precco said, as if he was offended that Megan wasn’t more appreciative. “Nadia and Simon wanted to kill you. But,” he said, waving a hand, “that is how their people do things. I was finally able to convince them that we simply needed you to regret ever buying this building,” Precco said. “So that you would be amenable to another offer.”
“You were going to make an offer?” Megan asked.
“Of course not,” Precco said dismissively. “But my friend has a daughter who had worked for J.T. Daly’s. She now works for you.”
“Chloé Dawson,” Megan said, her voice flat.
“Yes. Isn’t that fun? Anyway, she said that J.T. Daly’s was still interested in the purchase and would be willing to take it off your hands at the right price. Something substantially less than what you paid. Chloé is confident that J.T. Daly’s won’t have any issue with a long-term lease. They offer them to tenants all the time.”
Seth felt ill. If Nadia and Simon had prevailed, Megan might already be dead. In some crazy way, he was almost grateful to Precco.
There was potentially one more player who wasn’t in the room. Seth wanted to account for him. “What does Ross Lewis have to do with all this?”
Nadia giggled again.
“Yes, darling. You did a good job in finding him,” Precco said, looking at the woman. Then he returned his gaze to his three captives. “He’s nothing. A drug addict who would do most anything for his next high. When we started looking more closely at Ms. North, we found the story of her parents’ deaths. At first, we considered approaching Logan Lewis—after all, he’d had a relationship with Ms. North. But then, with a little digging, Nadia found that his brother had a habit that we were ideally suited to respond to.”
It was drugs. That was how they were making their money. Running the business out of the antiques store, which gave them a way to get the drugs into the country and a way to launder the money.
“For a little product, Lewis was easily persuaded to make a few phone calls,” continued Precco. “We wanted to mess with your head, confuse the issue. Especially after we realized that you were reporting things to the police.”
Seth was angry at himself. These three idiots had led them down a rabbit hole. “Where is Ross Lewis now?” Seth asked.
Precco shook his head. “Sadly, he got a bad batch. Probably died within seconds of it hitting his blood stream.”
He’d been a loose end and they’d figured out a way to tie it up.
He felt his heart sink. They had already committed murder. There was no way for them to back away from this. They were going to have to kill agai
n.
Chapter 22
Megan held Abigail’s hand and squeezed it hard. “Is the baby coming?” she whispered. Nadia, Simon and Precco had stepped back and were conferring. Unfortunately, Precco was still facing them, gun pointed toward them.
“I...think...so,” Abigail said. Her face was sweaty and her speech halted. “Seth needs a doctor.”
“You both do.” Seth was still conscious but he’d lost a great deal of blood. He had to be holding on by a thread.
Megan didn’t want to scare Abigail but she had a terrible suspicion. She’d read at least ten pregnancy books. “Is it possible that the back pain you had earlier was really labor?”
“I guess anything is possible,” Abigail said. “Oh, God. One’s coming.” She gripped Megan’s hand even harder until the contraction passed. “Evan is going to go crazy when he can’t find me,” she said when she could talk again.
“We’re going to get you to the hospital. This baby, my niece, is not going to be born on a floor with guns pointed at her.” She was furious. Abigail and the baby and Seth were all in precarious shape. She was not going to lose everyone who mattered to her. Not again.
She had to find a way to get the guns away from Nadia and Precco. She was twenty years younger and in much better shape. She could do this. But she needed to find a way to separate them.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“You’ll have to hold it,” Precco said.
“I can’t. And what I need to do, I don’t think you want me doing in here. It’s going to be pretty unpleasant for everybody.”
Precco, a man who dabbled in fine antiques, evidently found the topic distasteful. “Nadia, take her to the ladies’ room. And you have my permission to shoot her if she gives you any trouble.” He looked at Megan. “Nadia is actually a very good shot. The two of you were lucky at the Periwinkle.”
Nadia used her gun to point at the door. Megan gave Abigail’s hand one last squeeze. She did not look at Seth but could feel his gaze on her back as she crossed the room. She opened the door and headed down the hall.
Megan waited until they were past the elevators and almost at the restroom door. Nadia was about two feet behind her. Too far for Megan to turn and grab the gun.
She shifted, put all her weight on her left leg and lifted her right leg. She didn’t go for Nadia’s hand, in an attempt to dislodge the gun; she went right for her face. And hit her target with a satisfying crunch. The woman doubled over, her hand to her nose. Now Megan was close enough to bring a knee up hard into the woman’s chin.
Nadia’s head snapped back and she lost her grip on the gun. Megan grabbed it and pointed it at her. “If you scream, I’ll shoot you. We’re going back in there.”
That evidently gave the woman hope because she kept her mouth shut. Megan let her take about three steps before she brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of Nadia’s head. The woman fell to the ground, unconscious. Megan wasted no time in dragging her body into the bathroom.
Sometimes it was very good to be tall. And strong.
Her hands were shaking as she tightly gripped the gun. She’d never shot one before but she would do it—she would do whatever she needed to do to save Abigail and Seth. All she needed to do was go back into the big room and surprise Precco and Simon.
She quietly edged around the almost-closed door. Precco and Simon were still talking. Abigail was having a contraction and they were staring at her.
Seth was looking right at Megan. He held up a hand, as if to halt her.
Then very quietly, especially for a man who had to be light-headed from loss of blood, he stood up. “Cramp in my leg,” he said, rubbing his thigh.
Precco and Simon ignored him.
She watched as he took a couple breaths, his chest rising and falling. Now his good arm was hanging at his side. He made a fist. Then released his index finger, keeping it flat against his pants, out of sight to everyone but her. Then added his middle finger. She got it. What had he told her? At my count. On three.
She could see him gathering his body. Remembered something else he’d told her.
There’s trust and then there’s trust.
She understood exactly what he’d meant.
He added his ring finger. Three!
She came around the corner at exactly the same time he launched his body away from the wall and somersaulted across the room.
“Put your hands up,” she screamed, wanting to draw the men’s attention to her.
Precco’s gun swung toward her. “Nadia,” he yelled. “Where—”
She heard the shot and Precco fell to the floor like a stone. Seth had retrieved his gun and shot him.
“You’re next,” Seth said, his gun pointed at Simon. And time seemed to stand still as the man, gun in hand, glanced between Seth and Megan.
Seth was literally swaying.
If Simon didn’t cooperate, Megan would have to be the one to shoot him.
“Simon,” Seth said. “Don’t be a—”
“Police. Drop your weapons.”
Megan spun and almost passed out in relief. It was a flood of police. And when they stopped, she saw Royce, Trey and Rico right behind them. And then Evan, who ran to Abigail’s side.
“We need ambulances,” Megan said. “And there’s a woman in the bathroom.” She ran to Seth, who was once again on the ground, his eyes closed, his breathing very labored. She gathered his head and shoulders up into her arms. “Hang on, damn you,” she said.
“Paramedics already here,” Royce said. He squatted next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He put his other hand on Seth’s leg.
And the paramedics were in the room. Doing their thing. Pushing her away. Hurrying. As if to say that they, too, knew that time was short.
“How did you know?” she asked Royce as they were loading Seth onto a gurney.
“Car service called the emergency number for Wingman Security when you guys didn’t show up. I was the one on call and I knew immediately that something was wrong. We called the police and they were able to ascertain that all the activity was occurring in this room. We were attempting to identify another means of entry, other than the door. When we heard the gunshot, all bets were off. We came running.”
“You needed a rope,” she said.
He looked at her oddly.
“Never mind. I’ll explain later.” They were wheeling both Seth and Abigail out of the room. “I’m going with them.”
“Of course.”
“Seth was so brave. So very brave.”
Royce looked at the third gurney that had Nadia Vitron on it. She was conscious but clearly still dazed. Her smashed nose had stopped bleeding. “Who did that?”
“I did,” Megan admitted, a little sheepishly.
Royce smiled. “I think you were both incredibly brave. You’re going to make a good pair.”
Epilogue
Sophia North Chevalier arrived at 1:17 a.m. the next day. She was a healthy seven pounds, three ounces and twenty inches long. Her mother could not seem to stop smiling.
Seth was in the recovery room. His humerus had been broken by the bullet, which had not exited his body. He’d had surgery; the bullet had been removed and two pins were inserted to help the bone knit back together. The doctor had told Megan that she’d likely saved his life with her tourniquet.
Now she sat quietly next to his bed. They weren’t going to let her stay long. She could come back later, once he’d been assigned to a room. But she’d begged to be able to see him. Once she did that, she’d go and sit with his mom, who’d come to the hospital.
His eyelids fluttered and she could tell he was working to focus his eyes. “Hey,” he said. He tried to use his good arm to push himself up on the bed.
“Settle down,” she said. “Relax.”
�
�You’re not hurt?”
“Not a scratch.”
“Abigail?”
“She and Evan are with little Sophia, who might be the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.”
He shook his head. “Our kids will be cuter.”
“Our kids?” she repeated.
“The whole litter.”
She smiled. “I never agreed to a litter. I don’t actually remember agreeing to anything.”
“Too late,” he said. “A man takes a bullet for you, you’ve got to marry him.”
“You could have just asked,” she said, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you, Seth Pike.”
“And I love you, Megan North. But you need to get out of here. You’ve got a boutique to open.”
“We’ve got a boutique,” she said.
“And an airplane,” he added, no doubt testing whether she’d meant what she said that she didn’t care if he flew his plane.
“Indeed we do,” she said. “You can park it in the backyard for all I care.” He loved flying. She loved him. There were no choices that needed to be made.
He motioned for her to lean down and kiss him again. “It was fate,” he said, “meeting you under that awning.”
Fate. Luck. Some of both. “Get better,” she said. “It’s my deal in poker.”
* * *
Don’t miss the previous books
in Beverly Long’s Wingman Security miniseries:
Bodyguard Reunion
Power Play
Snowbound Security
Available now wherever
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton Cowboy Standoff by Marie Ferrarella.
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