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The Bride's Bodyguard

Page 12

by Beth Cornelison


  “I thought you said it was too risky?”

  She sighed, nibbling her bottom lip. “I’ll have to disguise myself or something, but I need to talk to Brent. It’s important.”

  Jake caught her gaze and scowled. He made a slashing motion across his throat.

  She returned a nod and pressed the phone closer to her ear, as if she could be nearer her sister. “Hol, I have to go. If I talk too long, they might trace the call.”

  “Wait! What are you going to do? I’m worried about you.”

  “Bye, Hol. Love you.” Folding the phone closed, she crossed the coffee shop and pulled her chair close to Jake’s. She peered over his shoulder to the laptop screen.

  “What did your sister say?” he said without looking up.

  She didn’t bother asking how he knew she was talking to her sister. It was a reasonable guess. “She said Brent was awake.”

  He didn’t say anything, but his body tensed. The telltale muscle in his jaw twitched, giving away his consternation.

  “Holly said the doctors have to operate. It’s a risky procedure, and—”

  “You can’t go. They’ll have men watching the hospital.”

  “Jake, if he can tell us—”

  “No. Too dangerous. My first job is to keep you alive. Doing anything about this bead is ancillary to that objective.”

  Paige heaved a deep sigh, although she’d expected as much, even told Holly as much.

  But even knowing the risk of visiting Brent in the hospital didn’t ease the persistent drumbeat in her head that demanded answers.

  Leaning closer to Jake, she studied the computer screen. “What did you find?”

  “Well, I mapped out the GPS coordinates in Brent’s planner, but they must be wrong. Or they relate to something other than an address. They’re for a point ten miles off the coast of Jamaica.”

  Paige drew a slow breath, thinking. “Our honeymoon was supposed to be in Jamaica. Maybe he meant the coordinates to be someplace on the island. Like I said before, maybe he was planning a surprise for me on the island, like a special dinner or bike ride…”

  “Why not use an address, then?” Jake drummed his fingers on the table, his brow creased as he thought. “Does Brent dive?”

  “Dive?”

  “Scuba dive. Maybe these are the coordinates of a shipwreck or coral reef he wanted to explore.”

  Paige shook her head. “He doesn’t dive. At least, not that I know of.” A memory tickled her mind. “Although…”

  Jake turned an open expression to her, waiting.

  “He talked about us going boating or deep-sea fishing one day while we were in Jamaica. I told him I get seasick even on small boats, but he was insistent. He told me I could stay back on the island and shop if I wanted, but he was hell-bent on going out fishing one day of our honeymoon.”

  Jake rocked his chair back on two legs. “Could mean something. Or it could just mean he really wanted to go fishing on his honeymoon. It was his vacation too, so—” He shrugged.

  Paige leveled a flat stare on Jake. “We’re talking about Brent. Brent doesn’t fish. His idea of sport is a racquetball game on an air-conditioned court.”

  The more she thought about Brent’s insistence on the fishing trip, the odder it seemed to her. Why was Brent so set on going? One more question she was itching to ask him.

  If she could figure a way into the hospital to see him without being noticed.

  Jake clicked a tab at the top of the screen to switch to another browser window he had open. “I also found an address for the jeweler who did the work on your ring. I plan on paying him a visit today and finding out what special instructions Brent may have given him.” He clicked to open another web page. “And I found some interesting reading about flu vaccines and where research stands in stopping a pandemic. I’d like to find a place where I can print out this article and a few others to read more carefully later.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear, mentally canvassing the neighborhood, trying to recall the local businesses. “There’s a place a couple blocks over called Acme Copies. I think they have public-use printers.”

  “That’s our next stop, then.” Jake bookmarked the site, then closed the browser windows and shut down the laptop.

  Donning the backpack, Paige followed Jake out to the Taurus. As she climbed into the car, she noticed a beauty shop across the street with a display of wigs in the front window. Blond wigs. Wigs the color of Holly’s hair.

  Holly could come and go from Brent’s room without suspicion.

  Maybe there was a way to visit Brent without being seen—if she could first get away from Jake.

  If her plan was to work, she had to act fast. Jake wouldn’t need long to print out the pages he’d bookmarked on the internet.

  Paige slipped the ring off her finger and tucked it securely in a side pocket of Jake’s backpack. If her plan didn’t work and she was caught—she shuddered at the thought—at least the ring, the infamous bead, would be safe with Jake. Keeping her gaze on Jake, she moved quietly toward the door of the printing shop while he plugged the laptop to the printer and tapped the keys to bring up the web pages he wanted in hard copy. She backed farther from him, nearer the door. Opened the door quietly. And ran.

  Clutching her purse to her chest, Paige darted down the block, back toward the beauty shop with the wigs. Under her breath she muttered a series of prayers. That Jake would forgive her. That her plan would work. That she wouldn’t be too late to see Brent.

  That she wouldn’t be caught. Killed.

  By the time she reached the beauty shop, she was out of breath and could barely talk. But she had no time to waste. She grabbed the blond wig she wanted from the display in the front window and jogged to the counter to pay for it.

  One of the hairdressers stepped over to the register. “Can I help you?”

  “Just need…to pay…for this,” she gasped and slapped the wig on the counter, adding a pair of sunglasses and a silk scarf from a display by the register.

  The hairdresser frowned. “Are you all right?”

  Paige nodded. “Just out…of breath. I…ran here.”

  With a dubious look, the hairdresser rang up the wig. “Someone chasing you?”

  “I—” Paige hesitated and considered telling the woman she was running from a violent and vindictive ex-boyfriend, but lying was anathema to her. She’d already skirted the line between right and wrong enough in recent days. “I’m just in a hurry.”

  After handing the woman enough cash to cover her purchase, and without waiting for change, Paige scurried to the door and contemplated how she was to get to the hospital. As disguises went, her wig-scarf-shades combo wasn’t much cover, but under the circumstances and with her being in a hurry, she prayed it would suffice. She studied the street for a moment, wishing a taxi would drop out of the sky, when a city bus chugged by and stopped at the next corner. She wasn’t sure where the bus was headed, but it was going in the general direction of the hospital. And away from Jake.

  She’d just pushed open the beauty shop door and stepped onto the street when the roar of an engine eclipsed the noise of the other traffic. Her heart in her throat, Paige jerked her gaze down the block toward the print shop. Jake was rocketing up the street toward her.

  In an instant, she darted back inside the beauty shop and hid behind a large plant near the door.

  She watched Jake whiz by, his head swiveling back and forth as he scanned both sides of the street looking for her. Guilt plucked at her, and she fought the temptation to run out to the sidewalk and flag him down. She had to talk to Brent, had to know what made the bead a threat to national security, had to know how Brent had become involved with terrorists and how she could put an end to the danger they were all in.

  Jake cruised past the beauty parlor again, slowing in front of the coffee shop to give the interior a longer look, then sped down the street.

  The bus at the corner chugged, and the brake lights blinked off. P
aige shoved through the front door of the beauty shop and raced to the bus as it began pulling away from the curb. She banged on the door and waved to the driver.

  He scowled but stopped and opened the door for her.

  “How near to St. Mary’s hospital do you run?”

  “Closest stop is at the corner of Eighth and Cherry, near the courthouse.”

  Paige did a mental calculation. The parish courthouse was about a half mile from the hospital. Walking distance.

  With a nod, she took a seat and dug the prepaid phone out of her purse. She hit redial and waited for Holly to answer.

  “I have a plan,” she said without preamble when her sister picked up. “Can you meet me in the ladies’ restroom by the information desk on the first floor of the hospital?”

  “Trade clothes with me,” Paige ordered Holly after exchanging hugs and tearful greetings.

  Holly pulled a face. “Do what?”

  Paige removed the sunglasses and silk scarf she’d worn over her hair. “I want to see Brent before his surgery, but I can’t go up to his room as me. Jake is certain the terrorists, whoever they are, are watching Brent’s room, expecting me to come by.”

  Holly shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “And?”

  Paige took a deep breath, searching for patience. Her jitters weren’t Holly’s fault, and her sense of urgency would have to wait until Holly understood the risks. “And they think I have something they want. They’ll grab me or kill me to get what they’re after.” Holly’s face reflected a growing horror, but she let Paige finish. “So I have to go up to see Brent as you. You’ve already been there today, in those clothes, so that’s how I have to look when I go upstairs.”

  Holly shook her head slowly. “How did you get involved in something like this?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out from Brent. This is something he did.” At Holly’s incredulous look, Paige sighed. “You should know, I’m not going to marry Brent. I never should have said yes when he proposed. I didn’t love him. I thought I was doing the right thing for the family, for Bancroft Industries, and…for Dad. I knew our engagement made him so happy. But I—”

  Holly caught her sister’s shoulders. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You did what you thought was right at the time. Now you know differently, and you have a chance to correct matters.” She pulled her sister into a tight hug. “All I want for you is to be happy. Listen to your heart. Trust it. Don’t let your head think you out of something wonderful because it doesn’t look right on the surface. Sometimes life’s greatest happiness is found in unexpected places.”

  Paige squeezed her eyes closed, and an image of Jake shimmered behind her eyelids.

  Holly pulled away and started unbuttoning her blouse. “I’ll trade clothes with you, but…I’m not sure we’re the same size anymore.”

  Paige began undressing, as well. “But we’ve been the same size, traded clothes back and forth our whole lives.”

  Holly pulled her loose top back and curved a hand around a tiny bump at her belly. “That was before I got pregnant, though.”

  Paige paused, blinked. Squealed. “Oh, my gosh! Holly, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was going to—when you got back from your honeymoon. I didn’t want to steal your thunder. Your wedding had been in the works for almost two years, and I felt selfish stealing the spotlight.”

  Tears of joy prickled Paige’s eyes. “I’m so happy for you. And Matt, of course. And…oh, wow! When are you due?”

  “Around Christmas. Perfect, huh? I might get to share a birthday with my baby!”

  Paige’s mind spun in myriad directions. Anticipation of her niece or nephew’s birth at the holidays. A fresh determination to keep her sisters safe from whatever threat Brent had entangled her in. Wondering whether she’d ever find someone to have children with.

  What kind of father would Jake be? Protective, for sure. Thoughtful. But could he get past the hurts of his childhood and open his heart to a child of his own?

  First he had to let down his guard long enough to let a woman close. Paige longed to be the one to find a way into Jake’s heart, the one he trusted enough to let beyond his protective defenses.

  “Paige? Yoo-hoo. Hello?” Holly waved a hand in front of her, snagging her attention back to the present. “Where’d you go just then?”

  Paige blinked and shook off the daydream. “Just thinking.”

  Holly chuckled. “I figured as much with you. Thinking, dissecting…they are your hallmarks.”

  She knew Holly meant no ill will with her comment. She had always been the analytical sister. But lately she’d come to envy Zoey’s free spirit, Holly’s nurturing optimism. If she didn’t think everything to death, could she find the kind of happiness and love her sisters had?

  A buzzer of some sort sounded in the hall outside the restroom, prodding Paige to action. She didn’t have the luxury of the time she wanted to spend planning with Holly for the birth of her sister’s baby. Brent was heading to surgery soon. Jake would be looking for her. The terrorist were watching…waiting to strike. Time was critical.

  She hastily peeled off the rest of her clothes and handed them to Holly, who gave her her clothes in return. Holly’s clothes were loose but not enough to be noticed. Holly, on the other hand, couldn’t snap Paige’s jeans closed and just pulled her shirt down to cover the gap.

  As Holly helped Paige tuck her long, dark hair under the blond wig, Paige met her sister’s gaze in the mirror over the sink. “You’ll have to wait here. We can’t have two Hollys walking around the hospital.”

  Her sister nodded her understanding and gave her another hug for luck and safety. “Be careful.”

  After promising she’d take care, Paige slipped out of the bathroom and headed upstairs to Brent’s room.

  She kept a wary watch as she made her way through the busy hospital corridors, but had to admit to herself she had no idea what she was looking for. The terrorists would be smart enough to have their operative blend in. Whoever was watching Brent’s room wouldn’t be visibly toting a large gun, wearing suspicious black garb, or have a sign around their neck.

  Keeping her head down and trying not to attract attention, Paige forced herself to walk, not run, to Brent’s room. Stepping into the private room, she flinched when she saw the numerous tubes and wires hooked up to him, his paler than normal complexion, the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

  Her gasp roused him, drew his gaze. A frown dented his forehead as he studied her. “Holly?”

  Seeing for herself that he was alive, Paige sighed with relief. She stepped closer, brushing the bangs of the wig back from her eyes. “No. It’s me. Paige.”

  Brent’s nostrils flared around the nasal cannula feeding him oxygen, and he pressed his mouth in a firm line of discontent. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s too dangerous!” His voice was scratchy, little more than a whisper. “Jake’s supposed to be protecting you! Why did he—”

  “Jake doesn’t know I’m here. He wouldn’t approve, but—” Paige pulled a chair to the bedside and leaned close to Brent, keeping her voice low. “I had to see you, had to talk to you. You have to explain this to me. What happened at the church? Who are these people, and why—”

  “I’m sorry, Paige. So sorry. I never meant—”

  “To put my life in jeopardy by secretly giving me some…thing that puts our nation at risk? It’s too late for sorry, Brent. Now you have to make things right. Help me understand what Jake and I are up against.”

  He sighed and lowered his eyes. “It was only for a few days. I was going to retrieve the bead once we were in Jamaica. Switch the rings.” His gaze dropped to her hand, and his eyes rounded. “Where is it? Where’s your wedding ring?”

  Paige blew out a satisfied breath. “We figured the bead you were talking about had to be in the ring.” She gritted her teeth and glared daggers at him. “So much for it being a token of your affection, huh?”

  “Paige, I—”
He glanced away, his expression guilty, before returning an urgent look to her. “Where is it?”

  “With Jake. Now you answer a few questions. First, what is the bead? Why is it a threat to national security? Why do those men want it?”

  “That’s three questions.” Brent lifted his cheek weakly in a feeble grin.

  Paige’s returned stare held no humor. “Answer me, Brent. You owe me the truth.”

  He nodded, then winced and brought a hand to his neck. “You’re right.”

  She noted the heavy white bandage on his throat, remembering the bone-chilling minutes when Brent had been shot and blood had seeped from his wound. Paige averted her eyes, steeling herself for what she knew would be difficult to hear.

  Brent closed his eyes and curled his fingers into the hospital blanket covering him. “The bead is a nano-size capsule, a nanotube, that contains a sample of a virus we created to aid in our research and development of a super-flu vaccine.”

  “Nano-size,” Paige repeated, dredging up her college science to put the term in context.

  “Yeah. Meaning it is in the scale of a nanometer. One billionth of a meter.”

  “Billionth? With a b? It’s hard to imagine something so small.” She shook her head and tried to wrap her brain around the concept.

  Brent filled in the blank for her. “A human hair is typically about one hundred thousand nanometers wide. A typical virus is about one thousand nanometers. You need an atomic force microscope to see something that small, but nanotechnology is the future of science and medicine. There are tremendous strides being made every day to find new treatments for disease, new compounds to improve quality of life…”

  When he paused for a breath, she interrupted. “I’ve read about the science and the aspirations to apply nanotech to many areas of life and research. I just didn’t know Bancroft was conducting any nanotechnological research.”

  He met her eyes, but hesitated. “We…purposely kept it on the down low.”

  “Who is ‘we’? Did my dad know?”

 

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