by Lisa G Riley
“Then he should make his move,” she said unsympathetically. “And we’d better make ours to that picnic before someone comes looking for us.”
*
“Having a good time, Bro?”
Sloan looked up from his conversation with Connor and Donovan Shaw and smiled at Kyle. “Never better,” he said and lifted his Goose Island beer in salute.
“Cool, but you might want to get a better seat for the show I have planned,” Kyle said. He looked down at his watch. “She’ll be here in about five minutes.”
“No, thanks,” Sloan said. “I’m fine just where I am.”
“Well, I’m not,” Donovan said and looked at Sloan. “Are we done here?”
“Go. We can talk about your case when I get back.”
Kyle slid into the chair that Donovan had vacated. “Isn’t he one of the guys you think could be stealing from the trust? Are you any closer to figuring it out?”
“Yeah, he’s one of them, and no, I’m no closer. Hell, I can’t even eliminate my own secretary from the list.”
“Damn,” Kyle said regretfully. “Sorry, that must be hard. I know how much you like her, but in this situation, you just can’t trust anyone connected with that trust. I hope you don’t talk about what’s going on at the office or anything. I mean, anyone could be listening.”
“Oh, I’ll go you one better,” Sloan said with a mock toast of his beer. “I don’t even discuss it on any phone but my cell.”
“That’s good,” Kyle said and looked at Connor. “No movement with the information from the cruise line yet?”
“Oh yeah, there’s been movement. Your brother just refuses to believe what’s been put right in front of his eyes.”
Kyle looked at Sloan. “What’s he talking about?”
“The ship’s manifest has Mrs. Patterson’s signature. And they sent some crappy picture with an image that is barely discernable from its blurry background.”
“And you think the signature’s forged and the photo is faked?”
“Yes, I do,” Sloan said stubbornly. “I think Mrs. Patterson is dead.”
Connor snorted. “Listen to him. He’s turned this into a conspiracy, the scale of which only the mind of Oliver Stone could imagine. If the signature is a forgery, then we’re looking at a conspiracy that would have to involve not only the nephew and one of Sloan’s associates, but someone on the cruise ship as well.”
“Your point?” Sloan challenged. “The nephew could easily have paid someone off.”
Connor only shook his head.
“Well, we’re not going to settle it tonight,” Kyle said. “How ‘bout we join the rest of the revelers?”
She called herself Puss ‘n Boots, and she wore thigh-high boots, a sheer black wrap, and not much else, all of which came off slowly and dangerously. By the time she got to her boots the room had erupted into shouts, and Sloan was left wondering if her legs were made of rubber, given some of the moves she’d made.
Puss ‘n Boots eventually left, taking at least a thousand dollars in sweaty tips with her, and the party went on. At the end of the night, after hundreds of buffalo wings and mini-cheeseburgers had been consumed, Sloan found himself sitting with the people he’d started out with—Connor and Kyle. He lifted his second beer of the night in salute to them. “To a great party.”
“To a great party,” they agreed.
“So what’s next on the agenda?” Connor asked. He hadn’t gotten drunk either.
“I don’t know about you two,” Kyle offered. “But I’ve got a nice, sweet woman in the main bar waiting for me.”
“Are you drunk?” Sloan asked him.
“No,” Kyle said. “Much to my disappointment, but I don’t want to have a hangover for the big day tomorrow.”
“Good. Then that means you’ll be on time in the morning when I come to your hotel to bring your tux and to pick you up.” Kyle had been measured for his tuxedo when he was last in town, but it hadn’t been ready until after he’d left for Lake Tahoe. Sloan had had it since June and had forgotten to bring it to the rehearsal to give to him.
“Yeah, thanks. That will be cool. What time?”
“I’ll be there by nine thirty, and I’d like for us to leave by ten.”
“You picking Connor up too?” Kyle asked.
“There’s no need to. He lives a block down from the church, and he’ll meet us there. Besides, I could use the company on the ride over.”
“Nervous?”
“No. I just want the company.” What Sloan really wanted was to talk to him about the whole Tahoe thing, and his only chance would be during the ride to the church. “Don’t forget: nine thirty,” Sloan reminded him again as Kyle, looking all too eager, stood to leave.
“I’ll be there,” Kyle said.
Chapter Twenty-three
Sloan checked his watch. He was at least an hour behind schedule, but he couldn’t make himself move from the couch. He’d awakened that morning thinking of Kendra, and he’d thought about her the entire time he’d been getting dressed for their wedding. He hadn’t been thinking of how happy she made him, but of how unsure and frustrated she made him feel, and how she’d twice in the past few weeks questioned the wisdom of their getting married. He kept thinking about her suggestion that they postpone and couldn’t help but wonder if she was really ready to get married, if she trusted him.
What troubled him even more were the questions he kept asking himself: Would marrying her mean he’d have to deal with her questioning his commitment to her for the rest of his life? And if it did, was he really willing to do that? Did he want to chance her never getting better in therapy and always comparing him to her dad, waiting for him to leave?
Sloan knew if he didn’t hurry and answer these questions, his chances of getting married that day would diminish greatly. Making a strangled sound of frustration, he pushed his fingers through his hair and pulled until tears pricked his eyes, as if he could will the answer into his brain. “What the fuck?” he muttered. He hated feeling so unsure. “Would it be worth it?”
Unbidden, an image of Kendra smiling and beckoning to him filled his head, and warmth spread throughout his body, and suddenly he knew his answer. “I’m such an idiot,” he grumbled as he rose and started gathering the things he needed—Kyle’s tux, keys, wallet, cell phone. “Of course I’ll chance it. I love her.”
He dialed Kendra’s cell, unsurprised when the call went straight to voice mail. “Listen, baby, I’m running behind. I was stupid, sweetheart… I started questioning if—Anyway, I’m on my way as soon as I get Kyle. I’ll be late for the time we planned I’d get to the church, but I won’t be late for the wedding. Just wait for me.” Wincing, he disconnected, knowing she would freak out when he was late.
“I’m a loser, I know,” he mumbled as he hurried from the apartment. As he locked the door, he raised beseeching eyes heavenward. “But I’m begging you, please make her therapy work!”
Once down in the lobby, he debated about going to get his or Kendra’s car and wished he’d given in when Kendra had insisted that he get a limo, or at least a town car and driver to the church, like she was doing. She didn’t want to have to worry about who would drive his car to the reception and then home, since they’d both be in a limo then. But he’d said he’d take a taxi.
“Turn the light on for me, will you, Henry?” he asked the doorman, referring to the light that sat on the end of the building’s awning. Like a light on top of a police car, it turned and blinked on and off to signal to taxis.
At the hotel, he let himself into Kyle’s room with the key his brother had given him, praying that Kyle had at least showered already. He’d called Kyle on his way over, but there hadn’t been an answer. He’d called everyone he had numbers for and had gotten only voice mails. He’d even called the church’s office, with no results.
As he walked in, Kyle was walking into the bedroom from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. “Oh hey!” Kyle said. “Uh…am I wro
ng, or are you late?”
Sloan laid the garment bag that held the tux across the bed and placed the shoe box on the floor, deciding there wasn’t time to explain what he was already thinking of as his moment of true insanity. “We both are. You should get dressed.”
As Kyle hurried back into the bathroom, Sloan paced over to look out the window to see the view of the Chicago River, and he remembered exactly which hotel they were in. Bastard must be flush again. Must have won a game he didn’t tell me about.
“Well, if it isn’t the man who’s about to walk down the aisle,” Kyle said some minutes later.
Sloan turned to see Kyle walking out of the bathroom. Sloan laughed reluctantly. Kyle had bloody tissue in two places on his face, where he’d obviously cut himself rushing to shave. “You didn’t have to bleed yourself.”
Kyle touched a finger to one of the bloody spots. “I was just trying to hurry. Hey, are you nervous?”
“I was, but now impatient is a better word to use—impatient to get through all the pomp and circumstance and get back to living our lives.”
Kyle raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound like a man in love.”
“We’re already together in every way that counts. Kendra is already my wife spiritually. After the ceremony, she’ll be my wife legally. The wedding is really just a formality.”
“I hear ya, but it’s a formality that people, including Kendra, need.”
“Exactly,” Sloan agreed. “So let’s go.”
“Just let me put on my shoes.” Kyle sat on the bed and reached for the shoe box. He studied Sloan as he finished up. The crisp black and white looked good on him. His thick blond hair was combed just so, and Kyle figured that it was done purely for Kendra’s sake.
“What?” Sloan asked after Kyle had been staring at him for more than a few seconds.
“Nothing. I was just thinking that for once in your sorry life, you actually look handsome.”
Sloan snorted. “And you look downright pretty. Now can we get the hell out of here? I’m already late.”
“I’m right behind you,” Kyle said as Sloan stalked toward the door. “Oh wait, I need to grab my wallet and room key.”
“I have a room key. Just grab your wallet and come on,” Sloan said as he pulled the door open and surprised the three men standing on the other side of it. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took them in. Two of them were large, bulky, and looked to be only about two branches up the evolutionary tree, while the other was scrawny, with small, beady eyes. The big ones wore dark sunglasses and black leather jackets. Sloan took all of this in in the matter of seconds it took for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He tried to shut the door and was prevented from doing so by a meaty hand that came up to slam against it.
“Got my cell and my wallet. What’s going—” Kyle had come up behind Sloan, who was frozen in place and staring at the gun that was pointed at him. “What the hell? Tom? What are you doing here?”
“Aw, my feelings are hurt, Kyle,” the man with the gun said. “Don’t you want to know why the rest of us are here too?” He waved the gun. “Step back.”
“Damn it, Kyle,” Sloan said angrily as he and Kyle backed into the room. “What the hell is going on here?” He kept his gaze on the men. He and Kyle could probably have handled them if it hadn’t been for the gun.
“Give me your phone.” The demand directed at Kyle came from the huge man who wasn’t carrying a gun. When Kyle gave it to him, he threw it to the floor and demolished it with the heel of his shoe. “Now yours,” he said to Sloan.
Sloan reluctantly reached in his pocket, handed it over, and watched as his phone got the same treatment. The man walked over to the bedside table, pulled it forward, and then yanked the phone out by the cord, the force of his pull causing the jack to come out as well. “Just in case.”
“Just in case what, you idiot!” The one holding the gun wasn’t happy. “Now if someone calls and can’t reach them, they’ll get suspicious.”
“Oh, jeez!” the man said with a slap to his forehead. “I wasn’t thinkin’. Sorry, Cliff.”
“You’re a moron—fuckin’ world-class; that’s what you are, Bobo.”
Even being in peril couldn’t stop Sloan’s reaction. He looked at Kyle and mouthed, Bobo? What the fuck? Kyle only shrugged his acknowledgment of the absurdity of being taken hostage by a killer named Bobo.
“Hey! I saw that!”
Bobo’s outburst made Sloan look at him. The huge man hunched his shoulders. “My mom liked the sound of it, okay?”
Again, Sloan couldn’t stop his reaction; his mouth fell open in pure shock. The big ape had busted into their hotel room, taken them hostage, and with the help of his primate of a partner, was probably going to kill them, and he had the balls to get offended at his surprise over his ridiculous name? Sloan shook his head. The shit was fucking surreal.
“Shut the fuck up about your name, Bobo,” Cliff said tiredly, as if he’d said it a thousand times before. “Both of you sit down.” The order was for Kyle and Sloan, and he waved the gun at the chairs. “Now,” he began once they were seated, “our friend Tom here is going to tie you fellows up.” He gestured to the small man, who pulled rope out of his pocket and tied Sloan’s hands behind his back.
“Tom.” Kyle’s voice was filled with rage as Tom tied his hands. “What the fuck is going on? What are you and Cassius’s muscle doing here?”
Tom wiped his hand nervously over his face and looked aimlessly around the room. “Well, you see, it’s like this, Kyle. I, uh…I mean, we need…”
“What Tom here is trying to tell you, Kyle ole boy, is that we’ve come for the money. All of it.”
“What money, Cliff?” Kyle asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come off it, Johnson,” Bobo put in. “We know about that big poker pot you won a couple of days ago. Your buddy Tom here spilled the beans, so hand it over. The whole two hundred thousand.”
Sloan jerked toward Kyle in surprise. I should have known. I just should have known.
Kyle ignored Sloan for the moment. He looked at Tom. “And I suppose I’ve got you to thank for them finding out my hotel and room number too, huh, Tom?”
Tom squirmed. “I’m sorry, Kyle. They were there when I called your cell yesterday and left you a message. And then they made me let them listen to the voice message you left me with the name of your hotel and the telephone and room numbers.”
“Enough of the chitchat, Johnson. Where’s the money?”
“I don’t have the money here.”
Sloan couldn’t help it. “This is true, Kyle?”
Kyle nodded. “I went to Vegas to play in another tournament because I didn’t want to take the chance of being set up again. Didn’t tell anyone I was going, but I won. Then I ran into Tom here, and…I shoulda kept my mouth shut.” He looked back to Cliff. “But I don’t have it here.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not,” was all Kyle said.
“Look, Kyle, I’m really sorry about this. Honest,” Tom said earnestly. “It’s just that we’ve been borrowing money from Cassius, and we need to put it back.”
“Borrowing?” Kyle repeated derisively.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Cliff said. “When we found out that the little pip-squeak here was doing it and getting away with it, we figured we could too. We made him cut us in on it. It’s such a sweet deal. And now we need to put the money back—”
“Yeah, but, Cliff,” Tom interrupted. “We don’t need all of it. All we need is sixty thousand. We can let Kyle keep the rest of his winnings, can’t we?”
The question was asked so seriously that Sloan snorted and gave Kyle a look. Kyle just shook his head in disgust. Stupid kid, Sloan thought. Unless Kyle and I are able to get control of the situation, we’ll probably both be dead before the morning is over. He thought about Kendra and tried to choke back his rage. Think. There’s a way out of this. All I need is one shot.
He looked at Cliff, who held the gun and was standing next to Tom. Bobo was standing close to Kyle. I have to get the kid out of the way.
“Don’t be stupid, Tom,” Kyle commanded. “They’re not going to let me or my brother live, so why will I need money?”
Sloan decided that if he weren’t so angry, it would have almost been painful to watch the hurt confusion on Tom’s face.
“Why would you say something like that, Kyle?” Tom asked. “We didn’t come here to kill you. We just need your money. Besides, you’re my friend, and we’ve got nothing against your brother.”
Sloan rolled his eyes and looked at the clock. He had had enough. “Wake up, kid! They’re going to kill us, and if it weren’t for the fact that they work for your brother, they’d probably kill you too.”
“It isn’t true,” Tom insisted. He turned to Bobo with his arms held out in appeal. “Tell them it isn’t true, Bobo.” He walked toward Bobo and away from Cliff.
Sloan saw his chance and took it, signaling to Kyle just before launching from the chair and at the man holding the gun. “Hey!” Sloan heard Tom say as he bumped into him on his way to rushing Cliff. He didn’t make it. The next thing Sloan knew, his head was exploding in pain, and the world was fading to black.
*
Anteroom at St. Catharine’s, 10:45 a.m.
“You look beautiful.” A teary Camille still seemed unable to believe that her baby girl was old enough to get married.
“Thanks, Mom,” Kendra said and tried to smile over the fear trying to take over. Where was Sloan?
“She looks a great deal like you, Camille,” Mary Johnson commented. “Don’t you think so, Amy?”
“Oh definitely,” Amy concurred.
“Stop,” Camille demurred. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Kendra wore a white satin, A-line, floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice of the gown showcased patterns of embroidered lace and had crystal and pearl beading. The skirt of the gown was overlaid with a white gossamer material that carried the same lace, pearl, and crystal beading pattern of the bodice. Her hair was upswept in a complicated style with pearls and crystals. She looked at herself in the mirror. Wait till Sloan gets a load of me.