by Cara Summers
“What’s wrong?” she spoke in a low voice as she reached Adair. “Is it Lawrence? Has something happened?”
“No. He’s here. The photographer is taking pictures as we speak. The guests are being directed to parking areas. Everything’s moving along right on schedule.”
Bunny glanced back at the photo shoot. The glow on her face had faded. “We don’t have any shots with the flowers yet. Can you handle that? I have a list of the poses I want.”
“Of course.”
Bunny handed her the paper. “I need to see Lawrence. I need to know that nothing else unexpected is going to happen.”
Adair felt another pang of empathy for the woman. A groom in a leg cast and wheelchair was probably not the way that Bunny had envisioned her daughter’s wedding pictures.
And there were worse disappointments to come. She put a hand on Bunny’s arm. “It’s going to work out.” She had to believe that.
“I just want my daughter to be happy. From the time she was a little girl, I’ve wanted to give her the perfect wedding day.”
Adair’s heart sank. But she managed to say, “Lawrence wants that, too. And he’s here. You have to give him kudos for that.”
“Yes. Okay.” Bunny drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I still have to check on him. The bouquets are in the adjoining room.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Adair glanced at her watch. Less than a half hour to wedding march time. “When the photographer’s finished, I’ll bring them all down.”
The second she closed the door to the suite behind Bunny, Adair leaned against it and allowed herself one deep breath. The photographer gestured the maid of honor and the flower girl to the side, then shifted to take shots of the bride from a different angle.
“Jennie and I will help you get the bouquets,” the maid of honor said.
As Adair followed them, she passed the full-length mirror and she as she did, something in the reflection tugged at her memory. In the doorway of the adjoining room, she glanced back to identify what might have caught her attention.
Nothing.
The photographer had moved to take a different shot. She was a woman in her forties, with a sturdy build and one of those enviably straight, black bobs that no doubt required regular appointments in an expensive salon. And she was good with Rexie, talking softly to her as she raised the camera to take the next shot, then shifting position and lifting the camera again.
Nerves, she thought. And she didn’t have time for them now. It wasn’t until she lifted the bridal bouquet out of its box that she felt the tug again. And this time she realized what was causing it.
Images flashed into her mind. The photographer’s hands, the familiar way they gripped and moved the camera.
Then came the voices. Daryl saying that wigs were standard tools of disguise. Alba barking when the bridal limo had arrived and Vi banishing her to the kitchen. Cam saying that the way best way to get into the wedding would be to “blend in.”
Adair shoved down hard on the hysterical laugh that threatened to bubble out. What better way to blend in than to arrive in the bridal limo with the bride and her mother?
Her mind was spinning so fast that she wasn’t even aware she’d moved back into the main room until she heard Rexie’s gasp. “Oooooh, they’re beautiful.”
Jerking her mind back to the present, Adair crossed to the young girl and handed her the cascade of roses and lilies of the valley. The remaining shots had to be taken. And she had to think.
But her mind had switched from fast-forward mode to slow motion. Any small hope she had of being mistaken or hallucinating faded as she watched the photographer take the next series of shots.
She was looking at Nathan MacDonald all right. The hands, even the way he let the camera hang from the strap on his shoulder—it was all so familiar. Why hadn’t she noticed it sooner?
There was no time to plan, but she knew what she had to do—she had to separate MacDonald from the bridal party and she had to keep him away. If his goal was to get revenge on Banes by stopping the wedding, Rexie could be in mortal danger. And if his goal was to get the sapphire, well, she could use that as a distraction.
Walking forward, she took Rexie’s hands in hers. “It’s time to go. Lawrence is already on his way to the stone arch.” She barely kept her hands from trembling as she gathered up the train and gave it to the maid of honor. “You’re in charge. Once you get to the foyer, go straight out through the front door and then wait on the garden path just as we did at the rehearsal.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched MacDonald cover his camera lens and move toward his case.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Rexie asked.
“I’ll be right behind you. I have a couple of shots to discuss with the photographer. Your mother gave me this list.”
Then without another look at MacDonald, she shooed them out of the suite.
* * *
IT WAS ALBA’S muffled barking that drew Cam from his post in the foyer to the kitchen. He had to nudge the dog away from the door as he entered.
“What’s upsetting her?” he asked Vi as he patted the dog’s head.
“She wants to go out that door.”
As if to prove the point, Alba moved to it and then turned to stare at them.
“I can’t let her out,” Vi explained. “Not after the commotion she caused earlier when the bridal party arrived in that limo.”
Alba didn’t move away from the door. She stood her ground even when Daryl entered through the sliding terrace doors.
“Anything?” Vi asked him.
“Everything’s running smoothly outside,” Daryl said. “The last of the guests are parking. Both Mr. and Mrs. Maitland joined the groom for the photo shoot, and from what I could hear through the terrace doors they intend to sign the papers there right after the ceremony.”
“But so far there’s been no sign of Nathan MacDonald,” Vi said.
Daryl looked at Cam. “Maybe he’s decided to keep a safe distance, wait until Scalzo is in the stone arch, and then detonate the bomb.”
“I don’t think that’s the plan. At least not his whole plan, because it doesn’t get him the earring. That’s got to be what he’s after. Scalzo’s partner is a patient man. He works behind the scenes, researching the targets, gathering data. So he’s had time since the Times article to look into the connection between the missing sapphires and the Queen of Scots. For fifteen years he’s been content to stay out of the limelight. That all fits with the person who’s been visiting the library. Then suddenly he comes out of the shadows to pay a personal visit to the castle to talk to Adair. That visit to Adair wasn’t about Banes. It was all about the earring. The best chance he has of getting it is through Adair. I’m betting she’s his target.”
He whirled back to face them. “And he had a camera when she gave him the wedding tour. Maybe that’s how he’s blending in.”
“One of the photographers,” Daryl said.
“The last time I saw her she was headed toward the bridal—” The ringing of his cell cut Cam off. He glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Adair.”
But when he held it to his ear, he heard nothing.
16
ADAIR PAUSED AT the top of the stairs, waiting until the two women and the little girl rounded the landing and started down to the foyer. Only then did she slip her hand into her pocket and close it around her cell.
“Thank you, Ms. MacPherson.”
The voice sent a chill down her spine. Because it was Nathan MacDonald’s voice. Not the husky voice of the photographer.
“For what?” She kept the smile on her face as she turned to face him. Then for just an instant her mind went blank. It wasn’t a camera he held in his hand now, but a small, efficient-looking gun.
“For getting rid of the girls so that we could discuss our business.”
“Business?” Slowly Adair drew her gaze away from the weapon and met MacDonald’s eyes. The large framed glasses we
re gone now and she could see that his eyes were calm. And cold. Cold enough to send another chill through her system.
“No need to panic,” he assured her. “I just have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition? I don’t understand.” Adair struggled for composure. He was able to read her too well. And she wasn’t going to panic. She couldn’t afford to. In her pocket, she pressed the number that she hoped was Cam’s and sent the call.
“Oh, I think you do. But we can’t talk here.” He smiled as he gestured for her to move away from the stairs and away from the bridal suite they’d just left. “We need some place quiet away from the wedding party and guests.”
“The library. It’s in the west wing. We’ll be alone.” Adair led the way down the corridor.
“You can stop pretending that you don’t recognize me as Nathan MacDonald. I have very good survival instincts. I felt it the moment my disguise failed me. I was sure of it when you rushed the bride and her attendants out of the room. And you saved me the trouble of finding an excuse to keep you behind. After all, the wedding must go on, right?”
Right. Opening the door, she led the way along the balcony that formed the second floor of the library. She heard a muffled sneeze behind her and kept walking to the sliding doors that opened onto the outside balcony. “This was Eleanor’s favorite room.”
Another muffled sneeze.
She had no idea if her call had gotten through, but she’d remembered the code word—”Eleanor” meant code red. That small detail gave her confidence. Turning, she faced MacDonald and the gun.
* * *
“SHIT.” SWEARING HELPED hold off the fear. Cam held his cell pressed to his ear, then nearly tripped over Alba as he led the way out of the kitchen.
“Is Adair all right?’ Vi asked.
That was the uppermost question in his mind. “I can barely hear her.” But he’d caught one muffled word. Eleanor. Code Red. So MacDonald had her. But he didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t afford to think about it. Not when he had to keep fear and panic at bay.
In the foyer he cursed silently when they had to pause for the bride and the two attendants cascading down the stairs.
“Where’s Adair?” Vi asked them.
“She’s right behind us with the photographer,” Rexie said. “We’re supposed to wait for them on the garden path.”
Just then Alba began to bark.
“Where is—” Cam turned, searching for the dog.
“Alba stopped at the door to the library,” Daryl said.
Of course, Cam thought. It was the logical place for them to go. And Adair’s mind was very logical. She’d want him away from the wedding. And for MacDonald, the library had to be the room he was most familiar with. He’d suspect that the key to finding the rest of the jewels would be there. For the next few minutes—he doubted they had more—he had to think the way Adair and the man threatening her would think.
He took Vi’s hands. “You take the wedding party outside and go on with the ceremony. I’ll send Adair to you as soon as I can.”
Vi met his eyes for a minute, then nodded. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Then she smiled at Rexie and led her away with her attendants.
“The library.” He spoke in a low voice to Daryl as they walked back to where Alba was barking. “Alba knows where they are.”
“The damn photographer,” Daryl said. “The dog tried to tell us when the bridal limo arrived.”
When they reached the door, Cam turned to his friend. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Less than sixty seconds later, he was climbing up the wall to the right of the library’s balcony.
* * *
“YOU’RE ALREADY FAMILIAR with the space, aren’t you?” Adair asked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
He glanced around. “No. You left it off my tour the other day.” He nearly sneezed, but caught himself in time. His hand remained steady on the gun.
“Let me open the balcony doors and let in some air,” she offered. If Cam decided to climb up the outside wall, he’d need access to the room.
MacDonald muffled another sneeze and gestured her to go ahead. She shoved them all the way open. The only sound that drifted in was the breeze ruffling the pines. The wedding hadn’t begun yet. But surely someone had to have noticed she was missing. Bunny would. So would Vi. Somehow the message would get to Cam. All she had to do was keep MacDonald talking. “So what exactly is your business proposition?”
“You seem to be a practical person, Ms. MacPherson, so I want to make you a deal. You give me the sapphire earring you found the other day and I’ll let you get on with your big wedding. So much depends on it. The future of your fledgling business as well as the little sting operation you’re cooperating in.”
Adair simply stared at him.
He laughed then, but the sound was threaded with anger, not amusement. “Oh, I know what you’re up to. I waited around to see if Lawrence Banes survived his little accident yesterday. And I recognized Daryl Garnett, CIA agent extraordinaire, the moment he got out of his car. I’m not as stupid as my longtime partner. I told him six months ago that it was time to take the money we’d made and run. The Securities and Exchange Commission was sniffing around. They’ve become more vigilant lately. But he couldn’t pass up the extra fortune he could make by marrying Winston Maitland’s daughter. The agreement they sign today will allow my partner to access millions with a few strokes of his fingers on a computer keyboard. The money will be in his offshore accounts before the cake is cut. And I taught him everything he knows.”
MacDonald’s voice had risen steadily, driven by his growing anger. Adair heard Alba start barking above it. The sound was muffled. Distant. The dog would know where they were, but she had to keep MacDonald talking and distracted so that Cam could make his move. “Your partner wouldn’t listen to you.”
“No.”
For the first time, Adair saw the full strength of the man’s fury in his eyes. It bordered on madness. And it had to be fueled by more than a disagreement over money. Outside, she heard the music begin. The wedding party had assembled. The fake minister had taken his place.
“But you stood by him and tried to convince him for six months. What did he do to make you want to kill him?”
“He told me that he wanted to buy me out. He’d give me half the money we’d already made and then I could take a hike. My services would no longer be needed.”
He used the fingers of his free hand to tap his chest. “My services that planned every con we’ve pulled for over fifteen years. My services that had allowed him to escape the law on several occasions and kept him out of jail.”
“He dumped you.”
“No. I’m going to dump him. I thought of killing him, but it will be much more satisfying to think of him rotting in jail. Especially when he learns that I used his precious wedding as a cover to walk away with a priceless sapphire.”
He dipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. “But I’m flexible on that. If you don’t give me that earring, I’ll press this button and there’ll be an explosion in the stone arch. While it’s filled with people.”
The music changed, signaling that the bridal attendants should line up near the end of the garden path. The groom and his best man had taken their places beneath the stone arch. She could picture it so clearly in her mind. Where was Cam?
“The clock is ticking,” MacDonald said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
She caught a glimpse of Cam to the right of the balcony door. But MacDonald still had the gun. She had to rattle him enough to allow Cam to make his move.
“The earring,” MacDonald prompted. “I was up in the hills after the rehearsal and I saw you and your aunt find it. You know where it is. I researched this place in your local library this morning. The most obvious place to hide it was Angus One’s secret cupboard. It wasn’t there. But you know where it is.”
“Yes,
I know exactly where it is.” Adair folded her arms over her chest. “Someone told me once that it’s not over until the fat lady sings. And I’m not going to give you the earring.”
“You have to.” Some of the fury in his eyes was replaced by surprise. “You have to or I’ll blow everyone up. I’m not kidding.”
“No, you’re not kidding.” She pointed to the device he held in his hand. “But you’re not going to be able to pull it off. That thing won’t work. We defused the bomb.”
“No. You’re lying.” But he glanced down at the box in his hand. And in that second of inattention, Cam gripped the ledge at the top of the balcony doors and swung his feet through and up to knock the gun out of MacDonald’s hand. He landed close enough to plant a fist in the man’s face.
MacDonald fell like a rock.
“Good work, Princess,” Cam said as he quickly turned the man over and secured his wrists.
“You good up there?” Daryl called.
Adair saw him step out from beneath the balcony, his gun raised.
“Yeah.” Then Cam grinned at Adair. “Get out of here. You’ve got a wedding to run.”
* * *
IT’S NOT OVER until the fat lady sings.
Adair kept repeating the phrase over and over in her head as she raced down the garden path. She wanted to make sure that when that song finally came, there’d be a happy ending for Rexie. And there was one thing she still had to do.
The wedding march hadn’t started yet. She had time. Careening around the last curve, she caught sight of the bridal party just as her aunt Vi signaled the maid of honor to start down the aisle.
“Rexie,” she said breathlessly as she reached them. “I need…a word?”
Without waiting for an answer, she took the girl’s hands and drew her out of earshot of her father.
The wedding march began.
“What is it?” Rexie asked, her eyes wide.
Adair leaned close enough to whisper. “Don’t kiss Lawrence.”
Rexie stared at her. “What about the legend? I thought the kissing part was the whole idea.”
“Rexie, it’s time.” Winston’s voice was soft, but very firm.