Bulletproof Princess

by It Girls

  "Yes," Renee said, a tremor in her voice. "That's why I believe Tatiana is missing woman number four."

  Chloe pulled into a drugstore parking lot and stopped to give the call her full focus. "I need help on this, Renee."

  "Didn't the Governess assign Harrison to work with you?"

  "Yes, but I have reason to doubt him. That's what the Governess was going to call me about." Chloe sighed. "I need Jack."

  No answer.

  "Did you recruit Jack to work for the Governess?"

  "No, I did not."

  Chloe clenched the steering wheel. Maybe she'd asked the wrong question. "Did the Governess recruit him?"

  No answer.

  Irritated as hell, Chloe sighed. "Look, I understand the need for secrecy, but I'm warning you that if I don't have help I trust, I will fail. You know what that means to these women."

  "Jack lied to you, and you still trust him?"

  "I do." It wasn't unqualified trust, but it was trust. "He had his reasons. He protected them in the wrong way, but he hasn't had as much experience at it as the rest of us."

  "I'm glad you've taken a leap of faith on him, darling. Jack is a good man, and he loves you."

  That was as close to an admission as she was going to get. "I don't know if he loves me, but I can rely on him."

  "You do know that Harrison believes Jack is the Duke."

  "Yes." So Harrison had shared his suspicion with Renee.

  "Have you proven conclusively that he isn't?"

  "Do I have hard evidence? No. But I don't have to be bulletproof when I'm with Jack. I do with Harrison."

  "I noted that trend. Do you believe he's the Duke, Chloe?"

  "I don't know," she said honestly. "But I can't dismiss its merit. He has access to the Governess and her consultants. That makes his staying ahead of the Roses much easier."

  "Until we know, let's keep him on the fringes."

  "I'm already there." Chloe rubbed at her forehead. With so many people proving unreliable, that should just be her motto. Keep everyone on the fringes until all is unraveled. "If you contact the Governess, or hear from Tatiana, let me know."

  "I will, darling. Be very careful."

  "I'm trying." Chloe dropped her phone into her purse, dragged her lip between her teeth, thinking through events, and hit on an oddity that had occurred in the dressing room just before she and Emma went to Hollow Hill. An oddity in Emma and Tatiana's exchange. She dialed Jack.

  "Quaid."

  "Got a second? Something strange happened yesterday. I'm not sure what to make of it. Can we talk it over?"

  "Sure."

  "I need to ask two questions first. I'll answer, too."

  "Will you trust my answers?"

  More faith required. "Yes, I will." Chloe meant it.

  "Okay."

  "Do you work for the Governess?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you the Duke?"

  "No."

  "Okay, your turn," Chloe said, risking relief.

  "Are you the Duke?"

  "No, I'm not." She waited, but he didn't ask anything more. "Is that it?"

  "One more."

  "Okay."

  "Are you still crazy about me?"

  Her heart beat hard and fast. "I'm stuck with it."

  "Okay. I'm done," he said. "What's strange?"

  He didn't sound a bit different. Was he happy about that, or did he see her caring as a liability? She wanted to know, but couldn't bring herself to ask. "When Emma and I were at G.R.C., dressing to go to Hollow Hill, Tatiana made a big deal out of Emma stealing her appointment for a peppermint foot treatment at LaBella."

  "Okay." He sounded lost.

  He couldn't understand yet. "Emma responded as if Tatiana were bitching her out about it for the first time."

  "I'm trying, but this is like a special code for women, and I'm not tracking."

  "Be patient. I'm getting there. I went to the salon and Jacques, the owner, told me Emma had taken Tatiana's appointment, but that Tatiana had come in, too. Fortunately, they'd had a cancellation. So Tatiana got her peppermint foot treatment."

  "Chloe, I'm sure that in some twisted way this makes sense to you, but that they both got a peppermint foot treatment isn't striking me as a significant discovery."

  "They left LaBella together, discussing where to go for lunch, Jack. Now if they both already knew Emma had stolen the appointment and Tatiana had wrangled an appointment anyway— "

  "Then why bring it up at the G.R.C.?"

  "Exactly." Chloe cranked her engine and adjusted her shoulder harness on her chest. The damn thing was trying to do serious injury to her right boob. "The issue had been resolved at the salon."

  "Then it had to be a message— to someone."

  "That's my thinking," Chloe said. "But I'm not sure what the message was, or for whom it was intended."

  "Who else was there?" he asked.

  "Kristi, Samantha and me." Chloe checked the clock. Nearly nine o'clock. Samantha was now tagging Ryan Greene under Renee's orders.

  "That leaves you and Kristi. Why would Tatiana pass a message to Kristi?"

  "I can't imagine."

  "Think back. Anything else unusual happen there?"

  Chloe remembered the fricking rhinestone glasses, the skimpy black skirt— and the red wigs. She debated mentioning them, and decided to err in favor of Emma. "I know this was intentional, but I don't know the rationale."

  "Go ahead."

  "You know the three missing Russian women are all brunettes, right?"

  "Yes, I do." Now he sounded wary and charged.

  "Emma and I were ordered to wear red wigs for the interviews, Jack."

  "Red?" He sounded incredulous. "I didn't notice that."

  "Poor lighting in the bar," she said. "Definitely red."

  "Damn it, why? Harvey wanted brunettes. Regal, sophisticated brunettes. Kristi must have screwed up."

  "No, she didn't." Chloe hoped this revelation didn't put Renee in a bad spot, or reveal that she was already in one. "Renee specifically ordered it. When we got there, we were sent to the wrong men for interviews, as well. We thought that was a clerical error and went with it, but now I wonder." Could that have been Renee's added insurance?

  Jack went silent. Chloe waited, but when he didn't say anything, she prodded him. "Jack?"

  "I'm here. Just absorbing."

  "What are you absorbing?" She cranked her engine and turned her lights on. The twin beams shot out in front of the car and down onto the parking lot.

  "The objective was to get you two on the inside, and two discrepancies is no mistake. Renee guaranteed you and Emma wouldn't be tagged for sale, which puts all her actions into question. Why would she deliberately sabotage an assignment?"

  "Protecting us?" Chloe suggested, at least half-certain she was right. "She's a second mother to all the Roses. But, in her own sophisticated way, she strong-armed us into taking the assignment and putting ourselves at risk in the first place."

  "Then something happened between the strong-arming and you going to Hollow Hill. Something that made her pull back." Jack grunted. "Chloe, was she protecting you and Emma, or herself?"

  Chloe was not going there. "Renee isn't on the wrong side of this." Chloe had lost Erik; she couldn't lose Renee, too. "Maybe she had to get us to accept the assignment, but she wanted us to fail so we'd be safe." That made perfect sense. Renee couldn't very well ignore orders from the Governess.

  "Maybe." Jack warned her. "But you'd better be prepared for a more complex reason than that."

  "That's as far as I'm willing to go, Jack." Renee had not been open with her, but that didn't mean she had changed sides.

  "I understand." His voice softened. "You okay?"

  "No, Jack. I'm not okay." Of all the times he'd asked, she hadn't been okay even once, and that reminded her of all she personally risked, and all she should be and wasn't. And that had her torn between crying and heaving. "Just give me a second, okay?" Her hands shook on
the wheel, but she pulled out into traffic. "I'm, um, working through this. I've trusted Renee all my life." Chloe choked up, paused, and then finished. "I believe in her, Jack." A tear trickled down Chloe's cheek.

  "Okay, honey." He sounded tender, gentle, as if only now did he feel how close to the bone this cut Chloe. How close to the bone his lying to her had cut. "We'll go with that for now. You take all the time you need. I'll just hang on here, until you're ready to…until you're ready."

  A moment of grace. He wasn't abandoning her or intruding. Just standing by, giving her time and space to work through this and choose what she wanted and needed. She loved this about him. His unassuming support, and his not feeling he had to jump in and fix everything. He trusted that she could sort through it and work it out on her own. There was goodness and strength in that. It was more moving and powerful than if Jack had bulldozed in and tried to fix the unfixable. Trust betrayed no longer exists.

  If Renee had betrayed her, all the good done before the betrayal wasn't just wiped away. There had to be logical reasons. Unfortunately, none offered would be acceptable to the Governess— or to Chloe. She would have covered for Renee in any way humanly possible— done anything doable for her— but if Renee hadn't trusted Chloe with the truth…. That might hurt most.

  "You still there?"

  "Yeah." She choked on a swallowed sob. "I'm afraid I need another minute."

  "No problem. Take what you need."

  She needed him. Darkness fell around Chloe and the temperature quickly dropped to freezing, seemingly pressing a heavy weight against her skin. A storm was building in the western sky. Tatiana could be held prisoner or sold, Emma lay comatose and critical, Erik had done exactly that which Chloe had begged him not to do yet again, Renee had deceived Chloe and Emma, Harrison had lied to Chloe and the Governess, and Chloe and Jack had broken their special bond. This had been one bitch of a day.

  Skirting Central Park, she drove into the private garage at Eleanor Towers, then got out of the car and passed the keys to her garage supervisor. "Thanks, Craig."

  "You're welcome, Princess Chloe." He took the key and walked her to the elevator.

  "How's the baby?"

  "He's fine." Craig beamed. "Sitting up and scooting all the way across the room on the floor."

  Chloe laughed. "Keeping Debra busy, I'll bet."

  "Oh, yes, ma'am." He laughed, a content man.

  Discontent, she stepped into the elevator. "Night."

  "Good night, Princess." Whistling, he parked her car.

  She keyed the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor, wishing for one moment in her life— just one moment— she could know Craig's kind of contentment.

  Phone service was dead on the elevator. Oh, damn, Jack! When she got off, her phone was ringing. "Jack?"

  "Elevator, eh?" He chuckled.

  "Yes. I'm sorry. I forgot again." The bell chimed and she stepped out, her apartment key in her hand. Breezing past a security camera— the building had several on each floor— she nodded at Aubrey, the night monitor until 11:00 p.m., and then stopped at her apartment door.

  It stood slightly ajar.

  "Oh, God." With her free hand, she reached into her purse and retrieved her Glock.

  "What's wrong, Chloe?"

  Her throat went dry. "My apartment door is open."

  "Is your staff in?"

  "No, they're off and Frank's at the hospital with Emma."

  "Don't go in," Jack said. "I'm two blocks away. Just go to the security desk and wait for me there."

  The coward in her wanted to do just that. But if she did, she'd always be afraid. She couldn't live her life afraid. Yet every horrible thing the Duke had ever done— every single bruise on Emma, Tatiana being kidnapped— haunted Chloe, and she stiffened, summoned courage and faced it. "This is my home, Jack. I will not be afraid here. I can't."

  She wasn't a rookie. She'd been trained by the best in the business. Pumped up, she kicked the door wide open.

  It banged against the wall.

  "For God's sake, talk to me so I know you're okay."

  "I'm going inside." She clipped the phone to her pocket. "You'll be able to hear me." Taking in a steadying breath, she held the gun in a two-handed grip, hoping to hell she didn't have to shoot anyone here. She'd done plenty of shooting on the range, and she'd fired her weapon on assignments, but she'd never had to kill anyone. And if she did have to kill someone, she damn well didn't want it to be in her home.

  "Entry is clear." She moved on to the living room, skirting wide of the sofa. Jimmy Valentine had warned them repeatedly in training that pros loved to recline on the sofa and shoot straight through it. She stepped up to the alarm system control panel. "Alarm is inactive but shows no signs of entry. Someone beat the damn system, Jack. They've been all over my apartment. I can't explain it— there are no signs of damage— but I know it. I feel it."

  "Don't go any further," Jack said. "Remember Emma, okay? Wait for backup. I'm in the garage, heading up the stairs."

  "Take the elevator." It was faster.

  "No phone service." His voice was breaking. He was running up the stairs, full out.

  "You can slow down." Okay, so she'd be elated when he got to the penthouse, but she wanted him to get to the penthouse. The man had just been released from the hospital.

  "Second floor."

  She walked on through, flooding the apartment with light as she went. "Living room is clear. I'm moving to the kitchen."

  She checked under the table, brushed past the fridge. The motor clicked on and the icemaker dropped ice. The sudden plop nearly scared her out of her skin.

  "Fourth floor landing." Jack reported in.

  God, he was fast. Keeping the gun elevated, ready to fire, she set the phone in its base to charge and tapped the speaker button. Her hands were shaking. The flowing drapes and draping tablecloth in the dining room had her checking the floor for feet. "Dining room is clear."

  "I'm at the door. Let me in."

  An icy chill swept up her spine. "I left it open." She headed back the way she'd come, her senses wide open to catch so much as a hint of a glimpse of movement, a whisper of sound, but there was only dead silence.

  "The damn door is locked," Jack shouted. "Get out here."

  Someone was inside with her. She moved quickly through the kitchen, checked the sofa, the living room, her heart pounding hard in her ears. At the door, she shoved the locks and jerked open the door.

  Jack grabbed her, jerked her out into the hallway and then pulled her into a bear hug, twisting so that his back was at the wall beside the door. "Damn it, woman." He tugged her closer, his heart hammering against her breasts. "The next time I tell you to wait for backup, you wait for backup or I swear to God I'll shoot you myself."

  He was terrified, pasty white, not flushed from the run, and holding her so tightly she couldn't breathe. "Ease…up."

  Jack loosened his grip a fraction and searched her face. "You're okay, right? You didn't see anyone?"

  She nodded, her chin bumping his chest. He was shaking all over. Fear for her. Even now… Her heart tender, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, her fingertips curled at his waist, holding him close. Absently stroking her hair, he clicked the flash button on his phone and then dialed 911.

  A woman's voice carried to Chloe. "Emergency services. Medical, police or fire?"

  "Police," he said, paused, then added, "Home invasion. Eleanor Towers. Penthouse. The intruder is still inside." His panic was subsiding; Jack was getting his color back. "Princess Chloe St. John," he said, then relayed her street address.

  The woman said something, and then Jack responded, "No need to hold on. I'm a federal agent, requesting backup." He hit the flash button again, then asked Chloe, "What's security's number downstairs?"

  Chloe gave it to him and he reported the breakin. Building security procedures went into effect. The outer doors would be locked. There'd be no ingress or egress until the security team had
checked the entire building.

  Four men flooded the hallway, all in uniform. Aubrey, the portly nighttime security chief, drew his gun and took aim on Jack. "Back away from her," he ordered. "Do it now."

  "No, Aubrey," Chloe said. "Jack's with me."

  They fanned out and checked the apartment, their voices carrying to her. Shouts back and forth that everything was clear. She looked into Jack's eyes. "I don't believe it. Someone was in my apartment with me, Jack." She'd sensed him, almost smelled him there.

  "Stay on guard and be ready to shoot." He went inside.

  Chloe followed, systematically checked her apartment, but found no one. "All clear," she shouted.

  "All clear." Jack joined her in her bedroom. "You okay?"

  She absolutely refused to say she wasn't okay another time, though she seriously doubted that she'd ever really be okay again. "I'm not scared, Jack. Not anymore. Someone was here. I feel utterly violated, and I'm pissed off."

  "That's a normal reaction." He checked beneath her bed.

  "Maybe, but it's different when it's your reaction." She stopped in front of her dresser, dragged her fingertips over the gleaming wood. Something was wrong. What was it?

  "I expect it is different."

  She pegged it. "Oh, no." She checked the gold tray beside her jewelry box. In all the upset, she'd forgotten. "My Rose pin is gone." The tracking device Alan had made her was gone.

  Jack frowned. "The one you were to wear at all times?"

  "I forgot it, okay?" She tapped the tray. "I left it right here." She looked at him. "I leave everything I wear all the time on the tray…so I don't forget it." Lame. So lame.

  Aubrey talked back and forth to Ed, who was manning the monitors in the security office, then tapped on her bedroom door, but didn't enter. "Princess Chloe?"

  "Yes, Aubrey." She turned toward his voice.

  "The rest of the apartment is clear. Ed reviewed the tape. The only person who entered the building since the last security sweep was a plumber. Ed monitored him on surveillance. He went directly to 503, came out half an hour later, and exited straight out the north entrance."

  "That's the penthouse next door," she said. "It's unoccupied."

  "The crawl space." Aubrey ordered Ed to check it.

  "There's a crawl space above the penthouse?" Jack asked.