by Amelia Autin
But not here. Not now. Not without answers—or Eli. She’d taken on a different identity on social media, too, and the scared recent posts from her nephew were the primary reason she had returned so impulsively.
If there had been any way of helping Eli remotely, she would have done it. She had tried to think of some way to do that so she wouldn’t have to put herself in danger once more.
But she hadn’t been able to just sit back and watch Eli’s terror grow.
“They’re here.” Ella Berdeen, the restaurant’s co-owner and manager, had joined Kelly near the row of tables that she had, at Ella’s instruction, helped to set up. That had involved obtaining more information about timing and numbers from the guy who had requested the rearrangement, then getting enough patrons to move to different tables in the busy restaurant to provide space for the city council.
It had taken a little bribery, some drinks and pastries that were on the house, but it had all worked out in the end.
“I’ll go tell the other servers,” Kelly said hurriedly, feeling like a coward. But she didn’t want to just stand there. And she would simply help to serve the food. She wouldn’t take orders. The waitresses were more noticeable than the ones who simply brought the food out and set it quickly down in front of the patrons—perhaps having an opportunity to eavesdrop a little on what they said.
Even so, she wished her waitress uniform weren’t so skimpy—a short black skirt beneath a snug and sleeveless white blouse. She knew Stan was a womanizer, and if he looked at her now, she wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell if he was undressing her in his mind—or recognizing her.
“No, I’ll tell them, and give me the orders you just wrote down. You start taking the orders of the council members and their staff. We have to accommodate their schedule.” Ella’s expression appeared irritated. In the few days since Kelly had started working here, she’d observed that despite what she made female servers wear, Ella liked to wear chic dresses over comfortable shoes, as she did now. Her hair was short and blond, and her smile never-ending—at least with her customers.
With her employees, like Kelly, she didn’t try to hide it if she felt annoyed. Like now.
“Okay,” Kelly said. But it wasn’t okay. Her first protective measure was now decimated.
On the other hand, maybe it would be better if she knew right away if all the changes that had been made to her, via cosmetic surgery, dyed and restyled hair, lessons in makeup and comportment and posture, voice and more, had changed her appearance enough.
She would soon find out.
Kelly started to turn toward the table when she saw the man in a suit who’d been in here before. He had returned—the guy who had come to make sure things could be set up for this group quickly and who had answered her questions about the arrangement.
Not surprising. He would want to make sure that all was ready, as promised.
But that might not be all he was doing here. And that worried Kelly.
At first she’d thought him an aide to the council members. But as he’d continued to ask questions as well as answer them, she had begun to wonder if he was with the private security company hired to protect the council.
She—no, her alter ego, Shereen Alsop—had had some familiarity with Blue Haven Security and with its staff...then. Before she had fled the town of Blue Haven to avoid the threats to her life that she knew, but could not prove, had come from Stan.
Ella had called this man Alan. He had just reentered the restaurant behind the group, but now he slid in front, approaching Kelly. She wanted to flee into the kitchen. Instead, she stood her ground.
The last thing she wanted was to do anything that might make her conspicuous, especially now, with Stan in the room.
Besides, her suspicion of this guy could just be a self-protective instinct. She couldn’t trust anyone. She didn’t dare.
“Good job getting this set up, Kelly,” Alan said to her immediately. Ella had told him her name earlier, too.
A feeling of warmth passed through her—unwanted heat. Sure, he was attractive. Sexy.
But she didn’t dare even hint at flirting with him.
“Thanks,” she said, making sure she did everything possible to stay within her role.
Alan was over six feet tall. His deep brown eyes regarded her from beneath craggy dark brows that matched his short hair, and he smiled.
But something in his expression made Kelly think he was trying to keep up appearances, too. Maybe because she suspected everyone these days.
Or maybe because she actually knew who this guy was.
“Hey, can we place our orders now?” someone called from beside her. “We’re in a hurry.”
Kelly needed to move away from Alan, and so she turned to respond. But she knew that voice. It was Stan’s.
Which would be less risky—staying here and talking with this possible security guy who might have a different agenda from the rest of his team?
Or confronting Stan for the first time?
“Go ahead,” Ella said from her other side, and the choice was taken from her.
When she glanced in Alan’s direction, she saw him nod slightly, with a small grin on his rugged, amused face that suggested he understood her dilemma.
Was she just reading into his appearance, his actions, because she suspected there would be someone in this town who was also undercover, but officially so?
Well, this wasn’t the time to worry about it. Right now, she needed to confront Stan. Sort of. While staying in character, and praying that her new appearance worked, and Stan didn’t recognize her.
And thus she would at last be able to accomplish what had become her life’s mission: protecting Eli and finally getting the evidence on Stan.
* * *
Alan Correy watched the gorgeous waitress who turned toward the tables of city council members.
The woman he had never met, yet already knew.
When he had come in before as a staff member of Blue Haven Security—his job here, while undercover—to request the tables, Ella had said her name was Kelly. And Alan had previously been instructed to keep an eye out for the woman now known as Kelly Ladd. He had been sent her photo as she’d looked originally, along with the last time they’d seen her, by his boss over his secure phone connection. Was this her?
Maybe.
That woman had taken full advantage of his real employer, the ID Division of the US Marshals Service. They had provided her protection as well as an identity change. But she left the job she had been given in her new life, disappeared without permission from the division’s head, Judge Treena Avalon, or anyone else.
She had been expected to show up here. Apparently she had.
This Kelly resembled the photo, although her hair was softer, curlier and a darker brown, pulled away from her face with a narrow band. Her cheekbones were more prominent, her lips narrower. Her face could have won beauty contests.
But the real Kelly, in addition to having had her looks modified, would also have been instructed in ways to further disguise herself if necessary.
Instead of immediately rushing over to the tables to take orders, Kelly continued looking at Alan for an instant. He had a sense that she was assessing him the way he was assessing her. That she suspected who he was, too.
But then she quickly pulled a pad from the pocket of her skimpy skirt and approached the table.
The person nearest to her, who’d just commanded her attention, was the reason Alan was here in Blue Haven.
And if he was right about who she was, Stan Grodon might in fact be the reason this attractive waitress was here, too. For similar reasons to his.
If so, she was endangering everything Alan stood for. Endangering herself—again—as well.
He would need to stop her. Oh, yeah.
But for now, he would ignore his deep-seated irritation—and her sexiness—and simply observe.
* * *
Could she do this?
She had to. Eli’s well-being was at stake.
Kelly quickly turned her back on the man who sent sparks of nervousness up her spine, whom she believed could ruin everything here for her—and for Eli.
But if she tried, she could ruin everything for him, too. Not that she wanted to.
The tables, all pushed together, seated four on each side and two along the end. A small bouquet of pink roses decorated the middle. The council group members were chatting amiably, although Kelly caught occasional brief eye rolls from some of them.
“Hello,” she said with a huge, contrived smile as she planted herself between Stan and another council member, one who looked familiar but whom she didn’t place. “What can I bring you gentlemen?”
“A tall mug of your strongest and best coffee,” said the short, older man.
“Me, too,” said Stan. “Get yourself one, as well. Then you can sit on my lap and drink it.”
It was all Kelly could do to prevent herself from gagging. Or, more preferable, grabbing the pitcher of water from the table and bashing Stan in the head with it.
His face was round, his hair thinning, his wide grin evil and unsexy, but he undoubtedly still considered himself the world’s greatest gift to women.
For now, Kelly had to go along with it. “Well, thank you, sir,” she said in the new soft and lower voice in which she’d been coached. “But I’m sure you’ll understand that I have to help your friends get their meals, too.”
She did it. She looked straight into his eyes and all but batted her lashes.
If he was going to recognize her, better that it happen now, with all these people around, than later.
“Oh, I understand, all right,” he responded, giving her a huge and ugly wink. “But I come here often. We’ll grab coffee—and more—another time. You’re new at the Haven, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” She made herself pause. “It’s such a wonderful place. Filled with wonderful people.” She didn’t glance away, despite how painful it was to watch him.
Did he know who she was?
Apparently not. A brief feeling of relief shot through her as he continued to treat her like a total stranger. A total female stranger he chose to flirt with.
“Sure is,” he said. “Like the rest of our Blue Haven. Welcome, and I hope you stay a long, long time. I’m Stan, by the way.”
“Me, too, sir,” she lied. “And I’m Kelly.”
She forced herself to continue to take his order—ham and eggs and all the makings of a big breakfast. The others also gave their orders, although a couple of additional waitstaff now joined Kelly to help.
When she was finally finished, she saw that Alan, the good-looking guy she didn’t dare trust, had seated himself with another man in a suit at a smaller table nearby.
He was watching her. And as she hurried into the kitchen to place the orders, she turned back. Alan’s gaze hadn’t left her. As sexy as she considered the man, she felt certain that physical attraction was far from his motive for observing her.
Alan might be the person who was supposed to be here, undercover, to bring Stan down.
But at the same time he might bring Kelly down, too.
Copyright © 2016 by Linda O. Johnston
ISBN-13: 9781488005107
Killer Countdown
Copyright © 2016 by Amelia Autin Lam
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